As the Moon orbits the Earth Always
by My Benediction
Summary: S/J pairing. M. This began as a one-shot but is now going to be a series. Exploration of possibilities. Sherlock gives John a massage. Snogging ensues. To be followed by sex in later chapters, S&M, bondage and whatever else my twisted mind makes them do.
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock - As the Moon orbits the Earth. Always.

This starts out innocently enough but I will warn you now. This is rated M for a very good reason. This is an 18 upwards pairing. I am not a clean writer. I write dirty but with reverence for I love this pairing. S/J pairing. MM sex, S/M in later chapters no doubt. I promise nothing but find the probablility arising of Dub con in some cases, breath play, edge play, bondage, voyarism, Dom/sub, switch likely, fluffyness and above all love. I'm exploring all options here as are S/J, I love writing slash and I make no bones about the fact that this will be kinky as hell.

Please do not flame, you have been warned of the content. Review if you like, send me ideas and I will try my best to fit them in.

Sherlock/John belong to ACD and the Moff/Gatiss. Science and deduction bless you all.

Part 1. Massage.

It was a Thursday. A cold damp, dank Thursday night and John Watson had just made his way back to 221B Baker Street. The London fog had curled up inside him tonight, the damp had settled in his back and shoulders. Even his limp, which barely bothered him these days, was pronounced. The seventeen stairs up to the flat looked a long way, the door mocked him as he wondered what horror would tonight present itself. He could really do with his stick right now.

The day had begun badly. His insane flat-mate Sherlock Holmes - consulting detective, having dragged him to a crime scene the night before (which he solved in minutes), had woken him early. John appreciated that he hadn't meant too, but the explosion that rocked the kitchen was just too big to ignore. Having cleared up the mess and seen to Sherlock, who's skin was covered in tiny slivers of glass, John discovered that all the coffee was gone. It seemed that Sherlock had not bothered to sleep and was bouncing off the walls on caffeine. To make matters worse there was no Jam and Sherlock, though grateful, was in a hyper-insufferable mood. John had decided to just shower and leave for work early. He hoped the day would improve, but no...

Sarah, his ex, was not in a good mood when he got in. It appeared that her attraction to himself had not waned, but that she hated herself for her feelings. So what better way to deal with pointless sexual tension than take it out angrily on said subject? Part of John was happy that she still had feelings for him, but the other half resented her need to punish him. The little looks of 'Your so gay', the whispers in the staff-room and the jibing about his housemate was almost intolerable. Maybe there was a point in all of it though. John had always put Sherlock above her and John had never been able to explain why, to himself or to Sarah when she had asked him outright. John shook his head. All he knew was that if things carried on he'd have to find another job. To make matters worse the surgery was packed with people demanding flu-jabs and the cold weather had everyone in a bad mood.

All John wanted to do now was to collapse on the sofa and watch crap TV in peace. Maybe get a chinese. He half hoped that Sherlock was out, but half hoped he was in. He could really use some company. But some quiet company.

Putting his key in the door, John cautiously looked into the flat. All was quiet. The dust moved gently in the air as the corner lamp lit it. There was a vague smell of sulfur, but he was willing to ignore that. Sighing in relief John plonked his bag down on the floor and began making a fire in the grate. Flicking the TV on as he did so. Once the fire was lit John plunked down on the leather sofa and grabbed one of the menus from the local chinese off the table. He heard movement then. So Sherlock was in? Being quiet? He heard Sherlocks bed creak and the soft footsteps of bare feet overhead. John shrugged and turned towards the stairs.

"Sherlock?" he called "You want some chinese?" He heard Sherlocks door click and then his house-mate appeared at the top of the stairs. John's breath caught.

Wearing nothing but jeans and his open dressing gown Sherlock padded lazily down the stairs. His chest shone white in glow of the lamp and his hair tumbled in an elegant mess about his slightly flushed face. He stretched widely and John could see each tendon moving, snapping, stretching as he did so. Sherlock grinned then, noting his fascination. John dropped his eyes quickly as the detective came round to John's side and sat down close to the doctor.

"Mmmm" he replied, sleep in his voice "why not... haven't eaten today." John rolled his eyes. Of course he hadn't. And of course he's been asleep all day ready to disturb everyone again tonight. Making a quick choice and then asking John his, Sherlock bounced off to the kitchen, jolting from sleepy to wide awake with startling ease, to ring their order through.

"Do you want some tea John?" Sherlock asked from the kitchen door. John nearly fell off his the sofa in surprise. He made tea. Sherlock never made tea. Sherlock cocked his head, amusement seeping into his features. "You look tired" he explained "you always make the tea, I know, but just this once doctor..." he smiled.

"I'd love some tea. That would be... lovely" John said, appreciation etched into his voice. The detective turned with a knowing look and John heard him put the kettle on.

"Oh, I got you some jam and bought more coffee." Sherlock called through the doorway cheerfully.

"W-what?" John spluttered in amazement. What the hell was going on? This wasn't Sherlock. Sherlock was never considerate and he never did the shopping. The detectives head poked around the kitchen door, a wide grin lighting his features. John looked at him sternly.

"Who are you and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes?" Sherlock just laughed and disappeared back into the kitchen to make tea. A moment or two later he reappeared with two mugs full of steaming liquid. He passed one to the doctor and sat back down next to him closely. John was racking his brains as to what Sherlock could possibly have done to make him act so nicely. Turning towards his friend he looked him in the eye.

"Ok Sherlock, give it to me straight. What have you done?" Sherlock smiled.

"Nothing" came the incredibly innocent reply. Sherlock leaned back into the sofa beside John put his feet up on the table and stretched his toes sensually. He made a contented sound. His sleep warmed skin seeping into John next to him. "Hows your back?" he asked suddenly. John, who was still sat up stiffly beside him, turned.

"How..? Oh never mind. Hurts." Sherlock appraised him.

"Your clothes are damp." he observed. "your back is stiff, your shoulders are held awkwardly, you had a bad day at work..." he narrowed his eyes as if trying to see Johns thoughts. "Sarah" he continued "she's on your back. You like it, but don't like it at all.." he sat up suddenly to draw in line with John and suddenly grasped both of the doctors hands in his own. John jumped at the contact, his skin almost instantly warming as a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. "your cold" the detective continued on, his line of thought not broken, seemingly not noticing Johns slight embarrassment. Sherlocks hands rubbed gently at Johns, bringing the circulation back into his fingers "your leg is playing up, which suggests stress, but not the kind of stress that you enjoy..." he trailed off, his eyes looking intently into Johns. John shivered but not from cold. Sherlock smiled and dropped his hands "..and our order is here." he jumped up to the door to leave John utterly perplexed by what had just happened. Damn Sherlock and his need to deduce everything. But there was something else going on, John felt it. His intuition was better than Sherlocks, a fact that he was extremely proud of. Something was going on with Sherlock. He was being considerate, had been shopping, had made tea and bought Johns dinner without so much of a mention and now he'd sat and unpicked the doctor, warmed his hands but in a way that was oddly different. He was being nice when he did it. There was something in his eyes that was different. Usually those steel eyes took on a hard distant look when deducing something, anything or anyone. But tonight they had been deep and dark. John felt as if Sherlock had been trying to yank his soul out of him. Maybe it was an experiment... maybe...

Sherlock bounded back up the stairs two at a time with bags of food. The smell engulfed the flat, taking away that slightly unpleasant tang of sulphur. John's stomach rumbled. Sherlock dumped the bags on the table and went, once again, helpfully into the kitchen to get plates. John rustled through the bags and slipped down off the sofa onto the floor to rest his back against the sofa and be closer to the fire.

The chinese was delicious as always. Sherlock had tucked in like a man starved, sitting on the sofa just above John, legs crossed and chest bare. He had let the Doctor watch whatever crap TV programmes he wanted, occasionally interjecting that what was happening was a load of rubbish and that he should write scripts instead. Now he appeared from the kitchen with coffee, having cleared away most of the left over food as well as the plates. He placed one on the table next to John and sat back down on the sofa above him.

"Do you feel better John?" he asked in that low rumble of his. John stretched and yawned. The pain in his back still tweaking at him.

"Yeah." Turning his head John smiled up at Sherlock "thanks for this. I needed it after today." Sherlock smiled and nodded and appeared to watch the television. John turned back to the flickering box. After a few moments silence Sherlock again spoke.

"I wouldn't worry about Sarah John." John stiffened. He turned again to look at his friend.

"What you mean?" he asked. Sherlock smiled knowingly.

"She's just jealous John. It will pass." John frowned.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"It's obvious" Sherlock stated "She thinks that you like me. She thinks that your in denial and knows she'll never have a chance. In order to counteract her feelings towards you she thinks that being hurtful towards the situation will make her feel better. She's wrong of course, as she will see, and then she will stop with the looks and the name calling." Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes "It's all very childish, it is playground mentality. I'm sorry John if I made the situation awkward for you." John turned stiffly to look more closely a his friend. He bit his lip. Is this what it was all about. This was an apology for getting between him and Sarah. John laughed a little.

"What?" the detective asked.

"Oh Sherlock, you didn't have to do this to apologize. It's not your fault, I let you into my life and I would never want you out of it. If she has a problem with that then that's her problem, not yours. Have you been thinking about this Sherlock? Because you don't need to." There was silence for a moment, until finally there came a very quiet retort,

"I didn't do it to say sorry." Johns brow creased. This was a turn up. Then what was this about?

"Why then?" Sherlocks mouth twitched, his eyes looking anywhere but John.

"I did it because your my friend and you never get appreciated as such." the detective mumbled. John smiled then. He took the detectives hand suddenly and Sherlocks eyes flew to his. John squeezed his hand firmly.

"That was very kind of you Sherlock" he said, the smile on his face proving it true. Maybe somewhere inside that machine like head Sherlock Holmes was producing emotions. John was quite proud of him. Sherlock gave a small, shy smile and then turned his eyes once again to the TV, pretending to watch. Johns hand slipped off the detectives and he turned again to watch re-runs of Morse.

The evening slipped by John this way quite pleasantly. Watching Morse run around, the occasional snort of contempt from Sherlock, and coffee that seeped pleasantly into his veins. It wasn't until he moved to retrieve the remote from the table that the pain, which had apparently settled in for the night, disturbed him again. Sitting against the sofa had probably not helped and John groaned and winced. Sherlock shifted above him. His eyes had not left John in the last hour. His head was trying to settle on what was best to do. This evening had been for John, but maybe Sherlocks motives weren't quite as pure as he had made out. He was fascinated by John. Sherlock knew what was going on at work just by looking at him, he knew what Sarah thought and he knew what he thought. John however was still convinced otherwise. His attempts to find a woman would of course be fruitless, he'd dated girls since Sarah and had got nowhere. Sarah knew why. Sherlock knew why, and it made Sherlocks heart swell like never before. It was just that John was still in denial. That, as far as he could tell, broke Sherlocks cold cold heart. The only thing that had ever warmed it denied his own feelings. Sherlock himself had struggled with the gradual build up inside of him. Feelings deeply repressed had been surfacing at odd moments over the last few months. John's smile made Sherlock happier than he had ever been before. The way he bit the inside of his lip when on a case. The way he'd despairingly look at Sherlock and then tenderly look after him like this morning made Sherlocks pulse race. John's touch on his skin when he bandaged up another wound. Sherlock had to admit that he'd been a little more careless of late, because despite the pain, the reward was just too good to pass up. And then there was John's mouth. Sherlock found himself of late quite obsessed by it. By the shape. The curve of his smile. the way it tensed and when John licked his lips Sherlock had to repress a shiver every time. He had found himself wondering how John would taste. What the texture of the skin there would feel like. What he would feel like if John licked his lips instead. What John's tongue would and could do to him... Sitting up suddenly in the sofa Sherlock wriggled quickly across and so he was sat, still crossed legged, above John. The doctor was rolling his shoulders.

"Uh..." he began "I tell you Sherlock..." the sentence went no further as Sherlock settled his long hands onto John's aching shoulders and began tentatively to rub them with his fingertips. John froze for a fraction of a moment. Sherlocks warm heat emptying into him, his fingers dancing across John's jumper to bury deeply and set a slow soft rhythm.. and John purred deep down in his chest. It was a bit weird he had to admit, his male flat-mate massaging him, but there was no denying his need for it. As Sherlocks fingers drove deeper into Johns thick jumper his head lolled back a little. He could see Sherlock above him from here, even as his eyes fluttered closed, he caught that tender gaze that Sherlock, rarely, but on occasion, gave him. Sherlocks hands worked steadily, building up the massage, feeling the tension in John's tendons and muscles. Gradually working out the knots. John sighed, such a pretty sound. Sherlocks skin prickled. His hands brushing cautiously inwards to John's shoulder blades, and brushed his fingers down over Johns spine. The doctor made a vague encouraging noise in his throat and Sherlock smiled a little, his fingers brushing (just barely) the exposed skin of John's neck. He felt the doctor shiver at the touch of skin on skin. Bending forward cautiously Sherlock spoke softly into John's ear, taking care not to touch him, but to warm the skin with his breath.

"John. This would be easier without the jumper." He felt John stiffen against him and then shiver as Sherlocks breath hit his neck and ear. Sherlock drifted a single finger over John's spine and then up, resting it where spine meets skull. Feeling the short stubble on the back of his neck. Another shiver. A sigh. A long suffering sigh? Yes, John had to pretend he wasn't enjoying this. Sherlock had nearly forgotten so lost as he was with the task at hand.

Following the long suffering sigh came a long pause. Sherlock didn't stop what he was doing though. He could feel the heat rising in John. Had to keep him simmering, considering, wondering... After long moments John shrugged.

"Okay" he said shortly, pulling at his jumper, raising his arms. Sherlock stopped and helped him out of the annoying clothing. Now came the problem of Johns Shirt, but Sherlock thought that could be far more easily resolved. Continuing on the same path as before, not wishing to stretch the band of trust too soon, Sherlock massaged John shoulders and back, firmly and properly. He had learnt massage from a little chinese lady he had helped many years ago. That and and a few others tricks, but they were another story. Eventually he ended up gently massaging John's bare neck, working it gently. And John, who could not help but admit it was utter bliss, moaned. Even Sherlock was taken aback by the sound. He's heard John moan before. In pain, in annoyance, in despair, but never had he heard John moan like that. It had a deeply sensual edge wrapped up deep in its core and Sherlock felt lightning stripes of arousal course down his spine. Sherlock watched the sound leave John's lips and again wanted to taste. To taste the sound, to have it vibrate deep within him, he wanted to rip that sound from John again and claim it from him. Leaning forward Sherlock again spoke low against Johns ear, closer now, his lips brushing his friend. A butterfly kiss.

"John. Are you okay?" John turned his head, his lips close to Sherlocks, unconsciously teasing him.

"Oh, good god Sherlock, I needed this." John replied huskily "When... when did you get so good at this?" Sherlock smiled.

"A little old lady taught me. Long story." John suppressed a giggle.

"I should have known you'd know..." His mouth pulled up at the edges so prettily. He gave a little laugh. "Sarah tried this once. She got squeamish when she had to touch my scar... I mean the woman's a doctor.. You'd think..." John stopped abruptly at the serious look in Sherlocks eyes. "W - what?" he asked awkwardly. Sherlocks hand caressed (there was no way it was anything else) the hair at the nape of Johns neck tenderly. His eyes softened.

"Could I see John?" he asked. John blinked. No one had ever asked to see his scar before. Women tried to avoid looking at it, pretend it wasn't there. He blinked again at the question that still rested on Sherlocks lips.

"Erm... err... I suppose so Sherlock. At least your not squeamish... But It's not pretty I... mmm." Sherlocks fingers cardled gently through the hair above Johns neck. John's attempt to surpress the noise that was building in his chest failed, he hummed in pleasure. What.. what was happening? Why was this so utterly enjoyable, why were sparks of desire pricking at the edges of John's spine, heating his body? Sparking down lower.

"I'm not bothered by that John, I would like to see it." Sherlock soothed, his hand still stroking unashamedly through the base of John's hair. John vaguely shook his head and slipped forward, away from Sherlocks hands and turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Sherlock smiled encouragement and slipped down from his perch to mirror John. They sat there face to face for a moment, John struggling to have the presence of mind to undo his shirt. Sherlocks gaze was clouding his thoughts and his neck still tingled from the feel of the detectives hands touching it. After a minute Sherlock rocked forward and reached gently across to John. He cautiously undid a button, his eyes not leaving the doctors. This seemed to shake John out of his daze and his own hands went for his buttons, but Sherlocks were already there, popping the buttons quickly for him. Sherlock stopped then and sat back. John had to show him, he wasn't going to force the issue.

"Sherlock.." John swallowed nervous of his flat-mates reaction.

"You do trust me don't you John?" Sherlocks eyes burned the doctors until finally there was a grin. A nervous laugh.

"With my life." John's hands went to his shirt and he pulled it back and off his shoulders to abandon it on the floor beside him. The firelight played over his chest, with its deep muscles and contours. The down that covered it sparkled in the flickering light. Sherlock was mesmerized, and he forgot to catch the little sigh that left his lips. John looked at him curiously, Sherlock stiffened, was John trying to deduce him? But as John's lips curved up he relaxed.

"Well" John said, a little laugh of relief in his voice "that's not the reaction I normally get. It's usually a gasp of horror. Your so wrong in the head you know." Sherlock had to chuckle along to that. Yes, maybe he was, but that was okay, because John got it and that was all that mattered. As the two men laughed together Sherlock reached out and touched Johns Scar. The laughter caught. Breathing ceased. Silence fell. And then John sighed as Sherlocks fingers explored the mass of scar tissue that was his left shoulder. Over where the bullet had gone in, across the jagged lines of fire and crude stitches, exploring every different texture with a tender stroking action. Jagged lightning coursed through John as his flat-mate touched him so tenderly. His fingertips felt like flames licking at his skin, even over the mass of scarring where the nerve endings where badly damaged, it burned. It sent shocks through the doctor and he willed himself to stay still, as something reared it's head deep inside his unconsciousness and his dark blue eyes rested on Sherlocks mouth, which was parted, his eyes fascinated. Eventually Sherlocks hand rested above John's heart as he took in every detail of the scar with his bright, clever eyes. Finally he looked up.

"Your heart rate is elevated John." Sherlock stated with a slightly husky edge creeping into his voice. John swallowed.

"Nerves" he stated, but not as firmly as he would have liked. One side of Sherlocks mouth quirked up.

"I don't know what she was making such a fuss about. Your scar is quite unique. Quite... beautiful." John frowned. Then he reached his own hand across to place it firmly on Sherlocks own bare chest. Sherlocks heart lurched. His breath caught at the sudden unexpected contact. There was a pause, the doctor counting under his breath, a subtle smile growing. Sherlocks eyes were wide. Was John in on his game somehow? Had he been outplayed? The silence stretched until finally John withdrew his hand, a smug smile on his face.

"Heart rate elevated Sherlock." his words curled round Sherlock like tendrils of desire. Outdone, but not beaten. Not yet. "Why would that be?"

"Nerves" Sherlock parroted, his voice barely a whisper.

"Breathing elevated..." Sherlock frowned.

"Nerves" he repeated, trying to level his voice, looking away from John, down at his feet. He hated repeating himself, but he couldn't think straight anymore.

"Did you really want to see my scar?" John asked suddenly. Sherlocks eyes flicked up.

"Yes.. of course.. Why would I..." John grinned and cut him off.

"pupils dilated." Sherlock looked at John warily, like a trapped animal. "is this what I think it..." John began, but was flung backwards, his back hitting the floor, Sherlocks hands pinning his wrists, his face close... so close.

"Your pulse rate is very high " Sherlock growled, hands gripping tight around each wrist, fingers against racing pulses. "Why would that be?" John closed his eyes for a moment, tried to gather himself. All Sarah had said... was this what she had meant? Why was his body reacting this way...? and...

"Sherlock..." The word was meant to be scolding, but it came out as a low moan of desire. Of need. Sherlock hovered above him, eyes locked with the doctors. Johns eyes flickered down to the mouth that hovered so close to his own. That beautiful bow of a mouth. He could feel Sherlocks breath, now growing ragged, ghosting over his lips. And John closed the gap. His mouth met Sherlocks in a kiss that was more hungry than he had meant it to be, and then John was lost. All he could feel was the delectable mouth as it moved hard and feverishly against his own, the dark haired man crawling up now closer to John to lock a hand about his neck. John's mouth moved at the same pace as Sherlocks, shifting and bringing his hand into the mass of unruly curls he pulled the detective closer, instinct was all he had to go on now. This was never.. John had never thought.. but then maybe he had.. If he had he could never have imagined.. but then he had kissed him first... Sherlocks tongue penetrated his mouth. John growled at his own submission. It was strange how natural this felt to him. He, John Watson, was snogging his housemate and was loving every damn second.

Sherlock was going slightly insane, he knew it. The feel of John's lips, the taste of John, the texture, the heat, it was all so much to process. The fact that John had taken the step that he had almost been too afraid to instigate drove his mind to distraction with the joy of it all. He wanted to make John his, all his, right now, right here on the floor in front of the fire. He was taking a risk, he knew, but when the Doctor had counted his heartbeats he had known. John had wanted to touch him and as the other mans mouth moved against his own Sherlock considered that his deductions had been correct. The slight bulge that pressed against his leg confirmed this further still. It signified that the kiss was real and that John truly did desire him and the detectives body hummed with the knowledge. Sherlock shifted his position a little so that his own erection, that had begun some time ago, brushed the other mans. His hips aligned with John's. Their chests pressed flush together, tongues moving, mouths biting, until finally they broke away panting. Each regarded the other.

"Erm.. I..." John tried. Sherlock stroked his face. John looked into his housemates eyes, wary. Not still protesting doctor? "that was..." John paused, his thoughts tumbling "erm... amazing." was all he could bring himself to say. Sherlock smiled a little at that. Dear John, he could never keep his thoughts from coming out of his mouth. "Um... Sherlock" John shifted as though to make escape. Sherlock subtly tightened his grip on John's neck, his fingers creeping round to brush the doctors throat. Johns eyes widened just slightly.

"Amazing?" Sherlock asked, his voice was husky and tinged with innocence. John blushed. "Your blushing John." John blushed further still. He shifted uncomfortably again. His cock rubbed on his jeans, he felt Sherlocks. Heat flushed his face. This was new... and no, he wasn't gay...was he? But then why was his crotch aching that way? Why did he want to do that again with his idiot flat-mate? Oh fuck. John felt the desperate urge to run. Gather his thoughts... Yes, that was it.

Run John, run away... from the thing you have always wanted.

TBC.

I've pretty much got the second part of this down. It was going to be a one-shot, but after requests for more of my previous story I've decided to make this a journey piece and I'm hoping i'll surprise myself along the way. I want to write some oneshot situations for you, in which I'm convinced, much lewed behavior will ensure. But for now I've completely run away with this now and it's got very very long, I've had to split the introduction.

Thanks for reading. Happy that you do. ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

My apologies for the slightly shorter chapter. I haven't finished all I wanted to yet and haven't had much time to do an edit, but felt I should post and so found an appropriate break. Sorry to frustrate you futher.

Thank you very much for reviewing, I really appriciate your words and reviews. Next chapter we get to the good stuff, I promise.

Part 2. Wanted.

John Watson shifted beneath the weight that was pinning him firmly to the floor. He had to think... to consider. He didn't want to fuck this up. This was his best friend.. the person he cared about more than anyone else in the world. The man he wanted to always be beside and now he had snogged him. A full on, sexually blatant snog. Fuck.

"I.. erm... Sherlock... do you think you could get off me?" Sherlock tipped his head thoughtfully. He could but that would aid Johns escape back into denial. He couldn't do that whilst his body was betraying him. Better to keep him here. Sherlock shook his head barely but enough for John to notice. "erm.." the doctor continued, nervous "why not?" Sherlock sniffed once and rolled his eyes.

"John" he said in that dark voice of his "Why on earth would I want to do that? You want me John Watson... My Doctor Watson.." The last words were a lustful whisper.

"But Sherlock..." Johns voice rose a little, trying to be commanding "..maybe you don't remember me telling you this, though I've repeated it often enough, I'm not gay!" Sherlocks head tipped in question. A question that John had asked himself, a question Sarah had practically asked him. Was he sure? No.. no not at all. Not now, not anymore.

"I think John" Sherlock rumbled "that maybe you are..." Sherlocks hips thrust forward against the older man so that his straining erection pressed against John's own increasing one. John gasped, a moan of desire escaped him. "I think you are John. Shall I tell you why I think that?" John moaned incoherently as Sherlocks hands slid from his neck and across his chest to stroke John's pink, hard little nipples. "hmmm, I can tell your distracted John, but i'll tell you anyway. Its because when I do this.." Sherlock rolled his hips slowly, sensually, cruelly against the doctors, a shudder. "Or this" Sherlocks mouth briefly captured John's tenderly. "Or this" Sherlocks finger nipped at the nipples he was rolling in his fingers. A groan. "You..." Sherlock nipped at John's ear, speaking now against it, "Make... those..." another nip "amazing noises.. and.." another roll of his hips, another groan torn from John, "...you are hard John." Sherlock pulled back to gaze intensely into John's eyes. John's breath came in bursts now. His eyes begged for more, but he didn't want to give in. Didn't want to admit his own nature.

"I..." he tried, but couldn't deny that the blood was fast pumping into the lower regions and was no longer reaching his brain. Words were not going to come easy right now.

"John..." Sherlock looked at him seriously "I do not consider myself to have a 'sexuality', but you John Watson give me one. I don't consider that wrong. I admit I struggled with it, but not because you were a man. My struggle was with letting myself go. I have done before... the results have not been... brilliant and so I have fought my desires. But John, I don't want to fight anymore." the detectives voice was hoarse "If you were a woman, or a yeti it wouldn't matter to me if I wanted you. Sexuality is a label, sewn in to make us feel guilty and..." Sherlock failed to repress a laugh ".. I can't believe it is me telling you this. Your the one who's supposed to lecture me. John, I don't cope with feelings well, but I tell you now this is not about sexuality, it is about my feelings for you." The detectives voice broke a little, his need pulsing inside him, begging to be let out. "From the last few minutes and the last few months I thought.. we felt the same.." he continued "Your body's reactions suggest..."

"Sherlock!" John was wide eyed listening to what Sherlock had told him. His body was subconsciously straining towards the other man. "Sherlock.. I..I am not sure what to tell you, I get how this appears, I know that I kissed you.. but.." John tried to relax a little as Sherlock watched him, but then tension Sherlock had cleverly unknotted had returned. John was shouting at himself inside, arguing each voice, the ones that made him feel guilty, the ones that told him that he was a straight man, a solder. They shouted and others shouted back. The one that shouted loudest though was the one that wanted Sherlock to keep doing all those delicious things. The one that desired to again kiss the other man again.. hard. The one that told him none of what John had known before mattered, because what mattered was right here, would always be right here and that he would miss it if he didn't do something soon. Perhaps most importantly was the fact the Sherlock wanted him. Sherlock Holmes wanted John Watson. In a way John couldn't believe it. Maybe he had never dared to think it. And now that it was happening, well...

John felt Sherlock move, saw his crestfallen face. The self-depreciating little smile that was hiding the tears he would cry later before finding a needle to take the humiliation away. He felt Sherlocks hand leave his chest to push down on the floor beside John in order to get up. Now John. Now or never John. This will be it, if you don't do it now you never will. It will be forgotten and wiped from Sherlocks hard-drive by any means necessary until it is forgot and life will go on. And you'll never know...

And you want to know.

Sherlock was know kneeling beside John, his face despondent, obviously about to raise to his feet. John reached up slowly and gripped Sherlocks head with his hand, plunging into those curls and stilling his friends movements. He sat up so that he was level with his detective, crossing his legs beneath him. Sherlock looked at him. His mouth pouted, his eyes sad. He tilted his head slightly in question.

"Your right." John said, his voice a low whisper. A tiny sprig of hope entered the back of Sherlocks eyes as they scanned John's face.

"What...?' he began.

"Your always right." Sherlocks eyes lit with confusion and hope. "always bloody right" John murmured, before leaning forwards to brush his lips teasingly against the bow of Sherlocks mouth, before taking it hard, driving his tongue past Sherlocks lips and past his defenses. The startled detective moaned with adoring wonderment. His own tongue slicking against John's. All teeth and tongues and glorious, slipping wetness. Sherlocks hand wrapping about John's neck, his fingers massaging at the tension he had already worked away once. His teeth pulling at John's bottom lip slowly, breath catching as John's hand slid to his chest and caressed his nipples and pale white skin. John was burning against him. His hand a flame that scolded the skin and nerves and molecules. Eventually, unsatisfied by their still sitting, cross-legged position, Sherlock gently pushed John back down onto the floor in front of the fire. Crawling up his body he sat firmly on top of John at the waist. Still locked in the unforgiving kiss the detective gave a little smile of satisfaction against the other mans lips as he felt that John was indeed as excited as himself. Although both mens bottom half's were covered each of their erections were plain to the other. Sherlock wriggled down a little on John so that his trouser covered erection nudged the other mans. Sherlock smiled suggestively at Johns gasp, he drew back to look at John. His face flushed, his lips red and parted in desire, pupils dilated, breathing ragged.

"Sh-sherlock..."

"Yes John?" The detective replied as evenly as he could, although all he wanted was to shag or be shagged by John Watson as soon as was convenient.

"I...I have never done this before. I don't really know..." Sherlock smiled and hushed his friend with a tender kiss.

"I will admit John, it's been a while." He gave a bitter little laugh "and public school etiquette is not what it used to be... Lets just say I wasn't an entirely willing participant, but I know how these things work." John frowned, shock slicing into his eyes.

"You...?" Sherlock smiled, the bitterness of experience not fading but appearing to be totally accepted.

"Mmmm. Long time ago John. I might have been a 'freak' but apparently I was an attractive one. I don't want to talk about it now. Later John I promise, but what's done is done. All I know John is that for the first time I want to give myself willingly." Sherlock paused, a serious consideration crossing his face. "If you'll have me that is. I don't want you to feel as I felt." John felt the tears well up, he was angry for his friend. Angry that nothing had been done to help him. He was also struggling with the fact that he was so totally in lust. His cock was throbbing beneath Sherlock. But most importantly, despite Sherlocks obvious need for him right now, he was willing to give John a get out of jail free card. Was giving him the chance to run if he wanted. It touched John's heart deeply.

"No..." John whispered "I'll do it."

"Do you say that for yourself John or for me?" Sherlock bit his lip and stroked the tear that had fallen onto doctors face. John shook his head, biting his own lip.

"I thought maybe you were wrong Sherlock. Bu.. but your never wrong. All the signs pointed to this, I was just trying not to look, to hear them. This tear is for you, because of the hurt you have felt and because I know you would never hurt me or do anything I wasn't okay with. You should never have had to go through that, but I'm going to do this because I want to. I find I want you so badly, it's always been there. Nagging away at the back of my mind, waking me in the night, but Sherlock.." John tilted his hips upwards, pulling a surprised groan from the detective, half a smile tilting his mouth "You started this and you now need to do something about it before I explode into little fragments." Sherlock needed no more persuasion. Growling deep in the back of his throat Sherlocks mouth locked again with John's. John gave in willingly now, having no desire to lead this new and exciting adventure, he was happy for Sherlock to be on top.

Teach me..." John growled into the detectives mouth, the lust he had hidden until now taking his voice.

"Oh, yes John..." came the breathless reply.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3 - Hot and cold.

Sorry this has taken so long. Wrote over 5000 words on Monday. Then had to work. Then had to edit. And re-edit. And work. And at work decided a huge angsty chunk had to be removed as I wasn't happy. Maybe dropped in later, we'll see. So re-write. Re-edit. I hope you like. It has been a bitch for some reason. Damn Sherlock and John for getting all angsty, not my fault. ;)

Thank you for reviews. As always they make me soooo happy.

Thank you Mama rocks for your lovely review. It made my day.

meredithriddle. Thanks. I hope I can do this part of the story justice. I draw from unfortunate experience. This is an emotional journey for me in many ways, but with John and Sherlock playing the roles for me. I appreciate your words.

ladypredator. Sorry to only just get back to you, have only just got grips with how the reviews work on here. You are quite correct, thanks for pointing out. I will edit as soon as I am able. I seem to have a blindspot there.

Sorry I can't mention you all, but again thanks. I hope you enjoy this part. If it's not all your were expecting be patient. The best things come to those who are willing to take it slow. ;)

Johns breath caught in his throat as Sherlocks mouth re-caught his, his tongue pressing into the hot cave to fight with the doctors. His teeth biting down gently on Johns bottom lip. Granting John dominance now Sherlock allowed the doctor to mirror the action, moaning as the doctors tongue penetrated his mouth, tongue flicking against teeth and tongue and lips. The detective ran his hands down over the body that was already writhing beneath him. Those clever fingers searching, learning, devouring the curves of muscle and smooth smooth skin. They tangled in John's downy chest hair as Sherlock removed his mouth from John's to move to his jaw. He tenderly kissed a line along it and down, to nuzzle and kiss at his throat. John arched beneath the detective, offering his throat up. Sherlock bit the soft curve drawing a guttural sound from the man beneath him.

"Ohhhh, Sherlock." John, growing bolder now as his desire grew, moved his hands to Sherlocks chest, to explore the expanse of white hairless skin. Yes, he'd touched Sherlocks chest before, in fact he could feel his own work there. The neat scar where John had sewn his best friend up following an unfortunate incident with a knifeman, but there was more. Small scars and burns and the occasional pinkish mole.. and John thought it was all wonderful. It was all Sherlock. Every scratch and scar and mutilation and Sherlock responded in kind. Pulling back for a moment he gazed deeply into John's eyes.

"You are amazing. The most amazing man and this John..." His fingers touched John's scar tenderly "makes you even more amazing. Never be ashamed of it." He lowered his mouth to kiss the scared and burned skin gently, licking it, tracing the stitches with his tongue. John's fingers ran over his handiwork. "Good work doctor" Sherlock mumbled against John's flesh before taking one of his nipples into his mouth. John smiled wryly and then gasped, hips bucking upward, pulling a moan from the man sat upon him. The doctors nails dragged down Sherlocks back in need.

"Oh, good god John, yes. Yes John..." Sherlock hissed, the pain notching his desire higher. He wondered what it would be like to be dominated by this man. That thought only served to excite him further. John grabbed his arse suddenly. Sherlock gasped. John smiled.

He was finding this far more easy than he thought he would. At first he had thought that things would seem different, but somehow this felt like the most natural thing in the world. John had been with so many woman, but he never stayed with them. The story of a solder he had supposed. But now that he was here he had to wonder if any of it had really mattered. Either way John found that using the techniques he had used with women in the past seemed to work just as well here. Being with a man wasn't such a mystery it seemed. In fact he'd already begun to figure out some of Sherlocks sexual quirks. Ones that maybe neither of them had known about until today. As he dug his fingers deep into the other mans buttocks the detective trembled slightly above him and John deduced that Sherlock liked a bit of pain. Typical. Not that it was a problem. John was quite happy to oblige. He felt Sherlock shift a little and then felt those long hands brush against his erection, his fly buttons popping slowly one by one. He trembled.

"Alright John?" Sherlock whispered deeply, his hands fluttering above the fly he'd just opened, permission was required.

"Yesss Sherlock. Please... Just do it. I need you... to touch me." John gasped beneath him. Sherlock needed to hear no more, his hand diving into warmth and curls and silky hardness. John groaned out as Sherlocks hand wrapped around his cock for the first time. Sherlock moaned deeply in his throat as his skin responded to the feeling of perfect silk, his thumb brushing over the already leaking tip to roll the moisture around the swollen head. He felt the twitch of response. Johns hands dug further into his buttocks, the doctor gulped in lungs of air as Sherlock gradually withdrew his swollen cock from his jeans. The doctor moaned softly deep in his throat, his eyes had fluttered closed.

"Oh John." opening his eyes John gazed up to Sherlock, whose eyes greedily took in the prize before him. He licked his lips unconsciously. "John" he moaned again, it was a sinful, needful groan. Those steel eyes raised slowly to lock with Johns, pupils blown, they had become dark pools of desire. Swiftly and never breaking eye contact Sherlock pulled at Johns jeans and underwear, both men lifting so the material could slide free of Johns hips and thighs and legs. John kicked them away, a tangled mess, just in time to see Sherlock switch positions. He quickly slid back and down onto his knees between Johns thighs, forcing them apart. His eyes flicked from Johns eyes to the iron hard cock that stood proud between the doctors legs. Again the detective licked his lips in a subconscious gesture and John felt needles of heat shoot through and down his spine to skitter into his already pulsing cock. Sherlocks eyes drifted back to Johns and the look he gave his doctor was sin in its purest and most undiluted form.

"John." The detective moaned deeply. "I want to suck you John. Would that be acceptable?" Johns pupils blew wide, his eyes darkened visibly. All the breath left him and he gazed in fascinated amazement at the man sat between his legs. He really couldn't believe that this.. this was Sherlock Holmes. Cold, emotionless, sexless (until now) Sherlock. The man he'd lived with for so long without ever having known that all of this was running through that crazy head of his. John nodded, utterly lost for words. A smirk curled the edge of Sherlocks mouth, that beautiful mouth, which he again wet with the tip of his tongue so that it gleamed in the firelight. Gently the detective ran his hands over and around Johns thighs, over his hips, up onto his belly. John trembled deliciously and thrust his hips upward in a submissive, wanting gesture. Sherlock smiled and locked eyes with his doctor. He continued to circle Johns stomach, but now with only his fingertips, savoring each muscle, learning each curve and dip and pore. John moaned in frustrated desire. Sherlocks fingertips rounded his hips now, softly skimming over the bones and soft soft skin there, to skitter back over John's thighs to dip between. John thrust again, straining for contact. Sherlock spidered his fingers around the prize, his hands catching in the downy softness that surrounded it.

"Ohhhhh... God Sherlock. Already. Please..? Your killing me here." Sherlocks lips quirked. That was what he wanted to hear. Wetting his lips now consciously, he moved towards Johns pride. He inhaled slowly and deeply, smelling his doctors arousal. The scent that was pure John. John quivered beneath him as Sherlock leaned to the tip of his cock, breathing a breath against the head. The doctors cock jolted at the warm exhale. Eyes never leavings Johns Sherlock slowly extended his tongue to touch the head, John whimpered as the detective licked the pre-cum very gently away, swirling his tongue over and around the purple head, savoring the taste. Sherlocks own cock throbbed in response, chemical reactions hitting the detectives brain as he took in the flavors. The salt, iron earthiness of John. Sherlocks eyes glittered playfully as the doctor moaned out thankful for the contact. Drawing back a little so that his breath still warmed the place his tongue had just tasted Sherlock gave a wicked smile. John's eyes begged him not to stop. He whimpered slightly.

"Ask me solder..." Sherlock rumbled, the devil playing in his features. Johns eyes widened fractionally. Sherlocks wicked laugh thrummed through him, into his drugged brain sending further frissons of pleasure through his body. "Ask me to suck you John.. and I want to hear you say my name." Sherlock felt the excitement rise further in John, the doctors breathing increased even further than before.

"I..." He gasped. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, breathing another warm breath across Johns cock, waiting. Johns submission had to be his own. Sherlock wanted the doctor to know that it was what he himself wanted. "I... Oh god Sherlock... I want you so badly... Please..." Johns voice tailed of into a whine. Sherlock smirked beautifully.

"Please what doctor?" he whispered dark and low. John flushed even more than he was before.

"Please suck my cock..." he gasped out. Sherlock looked triumphant but didn't move.

"and...?" he prompted. John shut his eyes for a fraction of a second before realizing.

"Ohhh..." he groaned, his erection growing visibly harder "Please suck my cock Sherlock... My.. Sherlock Holmes.. my consulting detective..." Sherlock felt the rush as John submitted to him finally and utterly of his own free will. His cock throbbed and his body caught on fire. Nearly there doctor. nearly there...

"Is that what you really want John?" Sherlock teased, despite wanting more than anything to have Johns beautiful cock lodged deep in his throat. "You want me to lick you, taste you... take you between my lips.." the detective licked them for effect and tasted John there. He shuddered with need. His own control coming undone, his breathing increased "take you into my mouth, to suck and lick and have you down my throat... let you fuck my throat until..." John made a keening noise, followed by a low growl.

"Please... please Sherlock... please I need you now..." John's tone changed, and the nasty came out, Johns voice came from lower in his throat, his breathing steadied a little. "I want you to suck me off, I know you want to.. It's what you've always wanted. I bet you've planned this for a long time... You want my cock in you don't you Sherlock.. you want me to fuck your pretty little mouth. It's what it was made for..." Sherlocks eyes widened, his body responded powerfully to the images John had thrown up. His breath caught, his cock hardened further still.

"Ohhh, yes John..." he growled dangerously, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "My pretty little mouth..." he echoed Johns words teasingly and then darted his tongue out quickly to lick briefly at Johns erection. "I think John you might have thought of this before..." John froze, his cock twitched under Sherlock deliberate hot breaths. His eyes met Sherlocks and his face flushed redder still. Sherlock raised an eyebrow curiously. John shivered beneath him.

"I..." he began, before clamming up again. Sherlock flicked his tongue against the swollen head in front of him and a dark laugh rumbled through him and into John.

"I think..." Sherlock breathed, mischief oozing from every pore "that before I go any further you should tell me the truth doctor.." Sherlock lowered his head, licking a little at Johns cock, looking up through his eyelashes and hair innocently. John tried to steady himself, but seeing Sherlocks ice cold eyes burning like fire as he gazed at him was undoing him and he moaned deeply. Sherlock drew back, the question still resting in his eyes. Answer me doctor.

"Okay... You win.." John sighed out. Sherlock tilted his head.

"Do tell." he drawled, again allowing his tongue to circle again. John panted.

"I...I might have... Oh god Sherlock... I might have had a dream or two... Nothing really. I never thought about it... I guess... uh.. I forgot them until.. Oh God" Sherlock smiled, still working Johns erection with his tongue.

"That's very interesting John" he replied with surprising calmness "now.. tell me what you dreamt and I'll keep going." John groaned deeply. Games. Sherlock loved games at the best of times. Of course he would want to know. John could see the need for knowledge sparking behind the lust in his eyes making them even more mesmerizing. And John knew he wouldn't refuse him.

"It's.. um... Sketchy... but I seem to recall something about being at Barts... And... Ohh.." Sherlock ran his tongue in a hard circle around the purple head of Johns straining erection whist running his hands over Johns hips to grip at him.

"Go on..." the detective replied between ministrations.

"I um... Yeah.." John panted "You were working late, don't remember the particulars.. but I saw you where I first met you... mmmm... working, the microscope, and you looked up and gave me this look..." Sherlock ran his tongue down and under Johns cock, to tickle along the seam.

"Go on.." he mumbled, his own excitement building, John had dreamt of him.

"Well before I knew it you had me up against that very desk... and you were kissing me... and ohhhh god yeeeessss Sherlock... please..." John begged as Sherlock palmed Johns balls gently.

"Keep going" the detective replied, his eyes locked on the doctors.

"You.. You were kissing me hard... and we were grinding... and you had me bent over the desk... You.. you were.. fucking me into the following week.. I woke up sporting.. well..." John glanced down, blushing furiously.

Sherlock rumbled a wicked laugh. Oh yes, that story had only made him harder still. Oh John was so surprising. The detectives body was shaking with chemical lust. With one last meaningful deep look into Johns eyes he wrapped his lips beautifully around the head of Johns cock and he swallowed him down slowly, inch by inch to the back of his throat and further still. John's back arched, his eyes screwed shut and then opened in amazement at just how far Sherlock had taken him in. He felt the detective swallow, felt his throat contract around the velvety hardness that blocked the airway. John felt his cock twitch in response at the squeezing sensation the contraction briefly created, he wondered about Sherlocks gag reflex and if the man was actually something other than human, but then felt Sherlocks clever tongue run the length of his twitching member. And John Watson was lost.

"Oh God.. my fucking Jesus Sherlock..."

Sherlock hummed in wonder as he swallowed down Johns cock. He took it as far as he could take it, swallowing to enjoy the sensation of having his throat filled up so beautifully. Sherlock wasn't sure that he could put a name to the emotions that were overtaking him, and had been overtaking him for a long time now, but he loved this. He loved having John writhing beneath him, he loved bringing out that nasty side he knew John had beneath all that kittenish fluff and he loved that John had finally come to his senses. But right now he really, really loved having Johns cock lodged deep in his throat. He saw Johns amazed expression as he had gone down and then gone down further. His eyes never left his doctors. Giving himself a few seconds to adjust to Johns impressive size and thickness and to revel in the fact that John was now inside him, Sherlock felt his mind still. All that mattered now was the task before him. All that mattered was John. He felt every other thought scatter and only then did he begin to move, his lips wrapped tightly around John. John arched up into him, pushing himself amazingly further into Sherlocks accommodating throat. Sherlock felt his gag reflex finally kick in and drew back, sucking gently, drawing back slowly, creating blissful friction with his lips, brushing the head of Johns cock lightly with his tongue.

John made a small amazed cry in the back of his throat as Sherlock drew back and then swallowed him down again just as slowly. His hips began lifting, automatically finding the rhythm that the detective was creating. Johns brain was fuzzy, but somewhere in the back of it sparked the words 'this is the best blow-job I have ever had'. The pace was picking up, Johns thrusts growing more frantic, he knew Sherlock was watching his every reaction and somehow that made this even more amazing. It coiled up warmly in Johns loins as he thrust his aching, dripping cock down his friends throat.

Sherlock allowed John to lead the dance now, almost stilling to let the doctor take full command of his pleasure and use him as he saw fit. He still gave a powerful suck or two intermittently, but he liked the fact that John was basically fucking his mouth. He desperately wanted to free his own now almost painful erection, but wanted John to be the one to unwrap him. To savor him. He had self control and was in total command of his body. If this was as far as things went tonight he would allow his mind to calm his raging desires and he would wait until John was ready to.. unwrap him. The detective made little noises of pleasure as John fucked him. Took ownership of his god damn dirty mouth. He saw as much as felt Johns orgasm beginning to twist and writhe. Johns eyes shot opened and he gazed unashamedly at his beautiful detective. Sherlock felt him begin to swell inside his throat as he hammered into him, felt him twitch, his balls tighten and his muscles begin to clench. He then saw Johns brief look of worry as he moaned out to Sherlock.

"Ohhh God,,, Fuck Sherlock. I'm... I'm gonna come.. I going to... uhhh" Sherlock stroked John tenderly, reassuring him it was okay, he wanted to taste him. Wanted to have spurt after spurt of Johns thick come down his throat. That he wanted to swallow it all, that it would be his utter and total pleasure.

"Oh.. oh god... Sherlock.." John moaned the detectives name, jolted, once, twice, and came. Came harder than he thought was possible. Came right down Sherlocks goddamn perfect throat. Sherlock choked a little as Johns orgasm rode wave after wave, the doctors cock driving deeper than it had before, swelling in the detectives abused throat. Not that Sherlock minded.

One, two, three.. six, seven.. oh fuck, eight! Each spasm seemed to outdo each others pleasure wise, Sherlocks name was like a prayer on the doctors lips. Sherlock never broke his gaze as he swallowed deeply, tasted Johns sweet seed on his tongue, a little spilling onto his lips to be licked off later. Ah, he would savor that. Dissect the taste, but right now his brain was firing off too many pleasure signals to concentrate on the chemical make-up of Johns spunk.

"Oh God.. Oh Sherlock..." John felt his body relax, the post orgasmic glow taking over. Sherlock smiled around his cock, taking in the last of Johns come, licking him clean gently, before withdrawing and licking his lips. He stared down at John, naked, beautiful, glowing John. His chest was damp with sweat and Sherlocks drew his hand through it tenderly a silly grin spreading across his now flushed face. John sighed in contented amazement, Sherlocks honest open smile was infectious. He grinned back as Sherlock drew up against his body, kissed his lips tenderly and curled up next to him. John vaguely shook his head and giggled a little as Sherlock nuzzled against his neck, taking in the scent to Johns hormones, licking the last of Johns flavor from his lips and filing all of it away for later study. He was calming his own arousal for he was happy just to be here snuggled up against John. This was all about John. His mind was strangely calm. Drawing up and little he smiled at the doctor.

"what?" he asked, Johns giggle catching in his own voice. John shook his head slightly, still disbelieving.

"God Sherlock.. that was mind-blowing. Amazing." he giggled again. "How long have you wanted to do that?" Sherlock smiled against his neck.

"Oh ages." he rumbled into Johns skin. John slid his hand into Sherlocks curls and twisted his fingers in it fondly. He sighed. Sherlock looked up, his eyes sharply curious about the noise. "What?" John grinned.

"Why the hell did it take you this long to tell me... Damn, if I'd known.. I had no idea.. no idea.. That was amazing." Sherlock smiled shyly.

"You know you do that out loud?" he said, a little coy, looking at John through his hair. John smiled,

"Yeah, you love it." Sherlock snorted in amusement as John shifted closer, resting his head against Sherlocks shoulder. Ah, this was bliss.

Sherlock found he didn't need anything other than this right now. He was happy with the sensations he'd experienced, that he had seen through Johns eyes.

Even though he had some experience in these matters he himself had never experienced orgasm at the command of another. Sherlock knew that he wanted to experience it, that he wanted to experience it with John, but honestly the whole thing scared him a little. To loose control so utterly. His experience had been the receiving end of attention, it was no wonder he was so clever with his mouth. He had learnt how to bring off a man quickly, it was easier to accept than resist. His latter school years had not been happy ones. In the end his mind had rebelled against sensation and had stuck that way for a long, long time. John, dear John, had made him remember. That locked up room marked sex, relationships, feelings had slowly but surely swung open. And Sherlock found, that in the end, even he couldn't resist it's pull.

John moved against Sherlock lazily, he watched him for a moment, could see his mind working, picking through things.

"You alright?" he asked gently. Sherlock blinked as John slid a hand over his stomach.

"Mmmm, yes John... I am very alright." John smiled and frowned.

"You were thinking." Sherlock bit back a laugh.

"I'm always thinking." John nervously moved his hands in circles over Sherlocks hollow stomach, tracing the shadows of muscle.

"Do you.. um.. do you want me to...?" John asked in a slightly higher pitch than he intended. Sherlock grinned down at him.

"John, I want you, I have wanted you for so long... but honestly this is fine. I can wait John, I can wait for you. I am happy just to hold you here." John sighed a little, maybe relief?

"Oh Sherlock, I.. I want you, you know.. but this is so new. So surprising. Not sure I have processed this all yet." Sherlocks stroked the doctors hair in a reassuring gesture. " I.. I just... I don't really know what I'm doing, and after that... Oh god, I'd fall so short... I.." Sherlock pulled John closer.

"No John.. You wouldn't. Never. Not for me. It is an illogical statement. Just feeling your heat against me sustains me. As for the rest, if you need to take your time, it's fine. I'll be here." Pausing for a moment, the detective couldn't help but recall the sensations that he'd experienced only a few moments before. A small moan escaped him, followed by a chuckle. "And John, honestly, you coming down my throat like that was an amazingly intense experience. You know me. I have to process this, dissect it, take it to bits. Lots to go on for now." John smiled a little against the warm body that was pressing closely against him and chuckled.

"Thanks" he whispered as his eyes fluttered closed. Sherlock watched him in the firelight. He didn't understand what was happening, what had bought him here, but he was happy. Warm. His mind was fuzzy, as if he had taken one of his special seven percent solutions, just without the bad side effects. It was all very beautiful.

Eventually the fire dulled and John stirred, despite the warmth that held him close the room was getting chilly. He rolled his neck slightly against Sherlocks shoulder and grinned up at him. A silly, puppyish look. Sherlock smiled at him fondly, seeing the sleep and warmth in the man beside him. John stretched a little.

"Mmmm. better go to bed Sherlock. I've got work tomorrow. hmm, and it's getting cold." Sherlock allowed John to move, and then stretched against the sofa. John stood and looked down on the detective, his skin white in the dull glow of the room. Unlike John, Sherlock had only lost the top half of his clothing, but that gave John plenty to admire.

"You are amazing." the doctor whispered, suddenly wondering what Sherlock was hiding beneath his beautifully tailored trousers, and he blushed at his own admission. Sherlocks own cheeks bloomed a little at the complement. He got quickly to his feet. Running a tender hand over Johns jaw he grinned.

" John" he said softly, a sly look appearing in his eyes" as I did that 'amazing' thing for you earlier John... I wondered if maybe you could do me a favor..." John blinked. His head whirred. He blushed redder still.

"I... erm..." Sherlock ran a hand over John neck gently, a little smirk appearing on his face. John gathered himself. "Uh.. yes... um, yes... What is it Sherlock?" he stammered. Sherlock placed a butterfly of a kiss on Johns lips and then span away to retrieve his forgotten mug.

"I would loooove some tea John, thirsty work" The detective winked. Johns mouth came open.

"I thought..' he began "I mean.. ahhh." he glared at Sherlock, but with long suffering affection. "You know what, your an idiot. I will make us both tea, and then I'm going to bed." Sherlock chuckled. John shook his head and turned towards the kitchen.

"Don't forget these John" The detective sang out happily, chucking Johns boxers through the kitchen door. "Don't want to scold yourself!"

"Idiot" Came the reply, even as Sherlock heard John grab and grapple his boxers back on.

"Yes John" Sherlock chirped, before making sure all the embers in the fire were dead and then turning towards his bedroom. In his eyes there flashed an idea.

John appeared at Sherlocks bedroom door a few moments later to find the detective had gone to bed. He lay on his side, cover pulled around him, his face angelic. Somehow John thought the angelic look made him appear naughty, but he wasn't sure quite how Sherlock had managed to pull that off. The detective was, in so many ways, like a naughty schoolboy who needed a good scolding.. but one that, no matter what, always got away with it.

"Tea sir" John announced sarcastically. Sherlock just snuggled down further and watched him through innocent eyes. John shook his head. He placed the tray on a side cabinet and gently took one mug of tea. "You wanted it" he chided. Sherlock wriggled up, still naughty and took the mug.

"Thank you" he said and then added quietly "Sit with me?" John tipped his head, he could see the look in Sherlocks eyes. That look which reminded him of a cat stalking his prey, with some caution the doctor sat on the end of the bed. Sherlock watched him through his curls over the mug, which he sipped at. John gazed at the detective. His fucking pain in the arse only consulting detective in the entire fucking world, with the most ridiculously skilled mouth he'd ever come across. God, Sherlock was amazing with that mouth. God, was John confused.

Maybe.

Watching the detective warily John drank his own tea. Sherlock had a plan in that head, and after tonight that could be anything. When Sherlock finished his tea he wordlessly handed his cup back to John. John looked at him suspiciously as he drained his own mug.

"Sherlock. Are you alright?" Sherlock nodded, his curls bouncing, a wicked smile curving his lips. John smiled back, placed the mugs back on the tray, and shook his head. He stood, bent and placed a kiss tenderly on the detectives forehead.

"Goodnight then Sherlock, and thank you. I mean honestly." Smiling, almost to himself, John made to turn to go. A cool hand gripped his wrist. John smirked, he knew there was something. Okay, lets play. He turned back.

"Sherlock, What is it?"

"Cold." Sherlock looked at him innocently. John tipped his head and laughed a little. He was freezing his arse off in nothing but his damned boxers.

"Your cold?" John replied "bloody hell Sherlock." He turned to go again.

"John" Sherlocks voice made him turn again. "Cold."

"And..?"

"I made a deduction." John rolled his eyes. He was fucking freezing.

"What is it?" Sherlock grinned now.

"That you're cold too." John huffed out a laugh.

"No shit Sherlock"

"I also..." Sherlock looked coy again "thought that maybe... as we are both cold that.." He shifted suddenly to the further side of the bed and pulled the covers up in welcome. "That.. you might like to share some body heat with me doctor" John had to laugh. He rolled his eyes.

"Your still an idiot" he said, as he climbed in beside the detective without another word. There was no point in arguing about it. Sherlock would get what he wanted in the end, and John would have just got colder. And hey, what the hell, the man that now so innocently lay in the bed had just sucked him off after all. In any case if he were honest, a part of John would have been disappointed to crawl into his own bed alone after tonight.. But he was surprised that Sherlock had asked. As he slid in to the bed beside the glowing, happy Sherlock John noted that the detective had PJ pants and a T-shirt on. The doctor smiled inside. Only Sherlock. Seduce flat-mate - check. Suck off flat-mate - check. Get flat-mate to share the same bed as you - check. Wear Pyjamas, who could figure out that brain?

Chuckling to himself inwardly John wrapped an arm around his idiot of a flat-mate, (his idiot of a.. lover?) and settled against him, the heat and glow from earlier returning in waves. He sighed deeply and kissed Sherlocks neck without having realized he'd done so.

"Goodnight Sherlock Holmes" he murmured against him. "Idiot" Sherlock smiled to himself as he settled a hand around his doctors waist, surprised at how natural it felt to have John in his bed. He could feel the dreams coming up, the sandman knocking at his door and contentment settling deep in his chest. Sighing gently he pressed closer still to his doctor.

"Goodnight John." he said.

Long chapter. I hope you liked. As always, reviews are welcome. Next time some angsty stuff I would think, followed by.. unwrapping? ;)

Love you guys.

Have fun! xx


	4. Chapter 4

Hello again! Sorry taken a while again. Right, no M rating really for this chapter. Bit of angst followed by some fluffyness. Was intending something else but then remembered that John should be at work! Am half way through next chapter and I'm feeling filthy, so I promise a good deal of the naughty in the next chapter.

Hope this keeps you going for now. Might even post tomorrow if Red Bull win the GP.. hmmm, not looking good, but I might even if they don't. Back at work next week, so might be busy.

Hope you enjoy this, Thanks for all your comments. I love you guys and I love Johnlock.

Laterz. xx

Part 3 - Morning.

Sherlock awoke early the following morning. He blinked against the dark of his room. His mind kicked in. His senses. He felt the warmth against his side. Frowned for a moment and remembered. He smiled sleepily, breathing in the scent of John. His mouth was dry. Licking his lips he tasted the last traces of John on his lips. Salty and suggestive and all John. He breathed in a deeply contented breath. Ah, he wouldn't be able to sleep now, his mind was bent on processing all the information it had been so recently given. Glancing down at the doctor who was sleeping peacefully beside him, his hand wrapped around Sherlocks arm in a light embrace, Sherlock decided there was no way he could move either. He didn't want to wake John and so he would just watch him. Enjoy this moment. These minutes. This hour before daylight woke the doctor from his peaceful place.

Again licking his lips, Sherlock allowed his mind to dissect the last traces of Johns come, adding it to the file in his head marked John. He watched his sleeping face, the way his eyes moved in REM sleep. The scent that emitted from his body. That musky, sleepy smell that seemed to compliment his own in a strange way. How long had Sherlock wondered. Too long it would seem. He had known, had always known that John was his. Should be his. But he had been scared to loose the one person that had made any kind of impact on his life, on his mind and on his shut off and presumed long dead heart.

Sherlock sighed. He could hear the birds outside waking and London beginning it's rushed unsettled pace. It was a pace that usually Sherlock was completely attuned to, but now, right now, he wished it would all shut off and allow him a little more time to just enjoy John. John, in his bed. Sleeping in his bed. It was all rather wonderful.

Shutting his eyes against the dawning light and listening to Johns steady breaths the detective allowed his mind to again read his carefully kept file marked John. He thought of the time they had met. Johns military stance, his shy confidence. A strange contradiction but it was the only way Sherlock could put it into words. Johns amazement as he had unraveled most of his story in the two minutes they had met for, the fact that he didn't take offense. Sherlock had smiled as he left the lab that day, on his way to find his errant riding crop, and then had frozen when he realized that he had winked at the man on his way out. He hadn't even realized he'd done it. How strange.

He remembered John coming here to 221B. Seeing the skull. 'I say friend'. And he was still there. Most would have left at that point Sherlock imagined. In fact he didn't need to imagine he knew it to be true.

Sherlock had left the flat then, with barely contained excitement, to attend 'a study in pink' as John so amusingly put it. He recalled reaching the front door, but then confusingly had stopped and turned. John. Sherlock mentally chuckled to himself. A man he barely knew had pulled him back up the stairs, and before he knew it Sherlock was asking him to come with him, be his assistant. He didn't really need an assistant, so why oh why had he told Lestrade that he did? And then he had realized. Somehow the ex-army doctor had got under his skin, it had taken him a long time after that to figure out why and how, but at that moment Sherlock had wanted John to go with him. It was all so strange.

He had of course then blinded himself with logic. Obviously John was a doctor, he would be most helpful in identifying the cause of death. Indeed the man had seen death and a lot of action. Enough for a lifetime. But then that wasn't quite true now was it?

'Could be dangerous'

Sherlock had soon figured out Johns need for danger. He thrived on it. He craved it, and although the doctor pretended that he wasn't drawn to it like a moth to a flame, Sherlock could practically see it radiating off him, could feel the spike of excitement that first time John had ran with him. And Sherlock loved it. It made him feel less alone. So glad that he wasn't the only one that felt the thrill, the thrum, the excitement and rush. Suddenly the detective didn't feel so much of a freak, the fact that John was so normal, so damned down to earth and still felt that way was... a revelation.

And from that moment John became fascinating.

Sherlock heard the footsteps in the street. He groaned inwardly. Heard the door. One knock, unmistakably Lestrade. Looking at the light the detective deduced it was around seven. Shifting gently against John he felt the other man stir against him. His sigh. His hand tightening a little around Sherlocks forearm.

John blinked against the light. He heard the faint knock at the door. His senses flooded back and for a moment he had not a clue where he was. His hand tightened around something warm and soft. Skin. Had he slept with a girl last night...? No... no, that wasn't right. A familiar scent filled his senses, and it all came flooding back. Sherlock. Ah. He had... had he? and... OH.

Oh, and Lestrade was at the door. Perfect. John, flushed from sleep, now blushed hotly. He felt the other man shift beside him and gently pull his arm from the doctors grip. Johns sleep filled, slightly embarrassed gaze lifted to Sherlocks. Both men heard Mrs. Hudson bustle from her flat to go to the door. Sherlocks steel gaze met Johns.

"Morning John" he said in a low tone. John gave a shy smile in reply. He could see Sherlocks mind running over the situation that had befallen them and quickly choosing the best course of action. Johns mind was still befuddled with the odd set of emotions it was still attempting to process and Lestrade was on the bottom step.

"Sorry John." Sherlock continued in his usual quick way, but in a lower voice than he would usually employ " Not the best way to wake. No time for you to make a dive for your room. Best I go out, see Lestrade and get rid of him as soon as I can. You stay right here." And the detective was up. Pulling his blue silk dressing gown about himself.

"Erm.." John began, sitting up in the slightly rumpled bed, ruffling his hair sleepily. Sherlock strutted back to the bed, planted a kiss quickly against the doctors lips and smiled, quickly doing up his gown.

"Shhh" He smiled, running a hand over the doctors head. "He's on the top step. I won't be long." Quickly Sherlock swept to the door, opening it just as Lestrade strode in the through the entrance of the flat.

"Ah, Lestrade." He began, glancing quickly back around the door at the almost naked John sitting uncomfortably in his bed. Sherlocks mind ran over a million possibilities of what he would rather be doing right now. Like telling Lestrade to sod off and devouring John before all his senses returned. But no. He must concentrate.

The work. Must concentrate on the work. Giving John a despairing look and wondering what was happening to him Sherlock quickly closed the door with a click.

John could here Lestrades voice, a new case. Something the police hadn't seen before. Sherlock sighing and sitting. Telling Lestrade to sit. Lestrade asking where John was. Sherlock telling him nothing short of an out and out lie followed by general murmurings and something about stick men.. and then Johns mind filtered the mens voices out. His head hit the pillow and he sighed deeply. All around him he could smell Sherlock. It was comforting, but somehow disturbing at the same time. John shivered, pulling the duvet around him. He hadn't quite come to terms with what had happened last night. His complete and total undoing at the hands (and mouth) of the man sat in the other room, who's voice rumbled deeply in Johns thoughts.

Oh, but that mouth. John shivered at the thoughts that passed him. That clever tongue, that endless throat. John had never experienced orgasm like he had the previous night. His self control had been lost. No woman he had ever been with had allowed him to do what Sherlock had allowed him to do last night. The doctor had been in complete control over his actions, Sherlock had been the vessel. The detective had allowed himself to be used.

'I must be gay." John thought. He tried to make the words sound right in his head, but he could not convince himself that they ever would. What had Sherlock said to him? Something about not having a sexuality.. but that John gave him one. That the detective did not consider himself gay.. Bi? Maybe that was it. Maybe John was Bi. It wasn't as if he hadn't noticed Sherlock, dammit he had had several, ah, extremely explicit dreams about the man. But John had never noticed a man before this. But then again Sherlock was not like most men. Inquisitive - indeed. Arrogant - in spades. Annoying - most of the time. Rude - but only to those that deserved it, which was most people. Brilliant - always. Arousing? Oh yes. So it would seem... Gah! It was all too confusing.

The bedroom door clicked open suddenly, jolting John from his thoughts. Sherlocks tousled head appeared, a grin settled on it.

"Coffee doctor?" John quickly gathered his thoughts and sat up in the bed again, clutching the covers to himself.

"Um.. Er.. Yes. Coffee. Fine." The detective gave him a suspicious sideways look. "I.. erm.. I take it that Lestrade...?'

"Yup. He's gone. Said I'd pop down to the station later. Something about coded letters. The police, as always, are baffled." Sherlock gave John a long look, his eyes softly meeting the doctors. Why was John pulling the covers up almost to his chin? Why did he have lines that suggested stress around his eyes? And why did he have that nervous tremor in his voice? Hmmm. "Are you alright John? the detective asked softly. John looked away. A sure sign of him not telling the truth.

"Uh, yeah." Sherlock gave him another deeply suspicious look, John would not meet his gaze.

"Okay... Coffee. Then you can tell me what's upsetting you." With another glance of deep mistrust Sherlock disappeared to make coffee, leaving the door ajar so the smell drifted into the room. John needed coffee desperately he realized, but he also realized that extreme awkwardness would arrive when it did. That didn't take long. Sherlock silently slunk back into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. Placing a tray with a pot of coffee and two cups onto his nightstand, he poured John a cup. Handing it to him John took it awkwardly, one hand still gripping the duvet. He watched distrustfully as Sherlock sauntered to his door and to Johns surprise locked it and removed the key.

"Erm... Sherlock.. why are you?"

"Mrs Hudson" the detective whispered in conspirital tones "don't want her to disturb us unwittingly." John saw the smirk as the detective sauntered to his book shelf and placed the key on the top shelf, on a pile of books. John knew he had deliberately put it were he wouldn't be able to reach it.

"Um..." John began, his voice coming out more squeaky than he would have liked "Sherlock.. Why have you.." Sherlock turned, his eyes amused.

"Ah John, catch on. Really." Quickly he moved back to the bed and John swallowed hard as the detective poured himself coffee and stirred in two sugars. He then sat on the bed beside John, close but not touching and sipped the hot liquid. He looked at John over his cup.

"So, worked it out yet?"

"Um..."

"Drink your coffee. It helps to get the brain going, well.. in ordinary people anyway." John swallowed hard and then obeyed, taking a large gulp of the dark liquid. Sherlock raised a brow.

"Better?" John closed his eyes. He nodded. "Good. So tell me... What do you deduce from me locking you in my bedroom where you just spent then night with me?" Johns breath caught. Who knew what the detective was thinking at any given time? John looked away embarrassed as Sherlock whispered "in my bed..."

"I .. erm.. well.." he began, his fingers playing with the edge of his cup.

"John." John lifted his gaze to Sherlocks steady eyes. God, John thought, the man doesn't even need to try and be sexy.. those damn eyes. After a moment the detective continued.

"This is me John. Nothing has changed so much that you cannot speak to me. Now please tell me what it is." John blinked and then gave a low chuckle. Sherlock was right. He was being irrational. Being an Irrational emotional human. Damn it.

"Can't you work it out?" John asked. His voice not a steady as he would have liked.

"Would you want me to?" came the quick answer. John thought for a moment. Hmm, not the best way forward. Being deduced by Sherlock was never a huge amount of fun.. being seduced by him on the other hand.. John shook his head.

"Uh.. I .. no. No.. probably not.. actually." Sherlock gave a knowing smile. It gave away the fact that he already knew what was troubling John, but he would rather the doctor told him himself.

"so...?" John heaved out a big sigh and took another gulp of coffee in preparation.

"Okay. I'm.. I'm not sure what happened last night. I .. it was amazing, don't get me wrong.."

"But?"

"Uh.. well Sherlock. I'm struggling with what has happened. I don't want to mess you and me up.. I just.. I don't know if... If I can do this." Silence fell for several minutes. John was not comfortable, he felt hot and strange and oddly needy. Sherlock watched him with steady eyes, finishing up his coffee as he did so.

"Your confused." Sherlock eventually commented, reaching by John to place his cup back on the tray, his arm brushing against the doctors as he did so. John felt his heartbeat quicken at the contact. For something to do John quickly downed his own cooling cup of coffee and abandoned the cup beside Sherlocks own.

"Um, that would be a good deduction Sherlock.. Yes."

"Well John" the detective rose, paced for a moment and then turned to look John in the eyes again "I had indeed worked that one out. I worked that one out a long time ago. Last night only confirmed my suspicions. However if you want this to stop right here and now we can say no more about it. It will be a mute point should you so wish it. But..." John swallowed as Sherlocks voice lowered an octave

"I would like you to consider that despite the fact that you have the covers on my bed pulled all the way up to your chin that you are still in it, and that when I dropped my voice just now I was experimenting to see what your reaction would be. Your pulse rate has risen again doctor, the heat in your body has gone up.." Sherlock dropped his voice lower still, slowing his words

"and now your pupils are dilating.. Indeed I believe if I say the words 'would you like me to swallow you down again doctor?' that your senses will heighten further and you will gasp.. oh a little like you did when I said them just now." The detective stalked very slowly towards the bed, his eyes never leaving the doctors. Oh God, John thought, Oh god. "Now we can forget all of this as I say" the detective continued "but John, I for one would deeply regret that. I believe you were considering my sexuality. I am not gay, nor am I bi-sexual, tri-sexual or omnisexual. I have not desired anyone before. It is you that give me this gift doctor, one I would wish to share with you." Sherlock paused and swallowed. His voice was coming apart, cracking. John could see that powerful emotions were pumping into that clinical brain, disturbing its natural order. The doctors own feeling pulsed and pushed and swam through his head. They made his skin feel tight. Denying this may not be the best way forward it seemed. Already the thought of not having that tongue wrapped around his own made John feel somewhat lost. He watched Sherlocks face, his mouth. Listened to the words that fell with feeling. And John suddenly knew that he wanted to kiss the man before him again. The detective suddenly sat again on his bed, apparently unable to support himself anymore. He closed his eyes for a moment before reaching for Johns hand and wrapping it tightly in his own, apparently clinging on for dear life. John took a sharp breath and felt his own fingers grip back subconsciously. Sherlock took a unsteady breath and continued.

"You question then your own sexual identity and I say now John, who says you have to have one?" His eyes burned into the doctors.

"I.. No.. Sherlock I.." John began, until the detectives long fingers suddenly looped Johns wrist, finding that hard fast pulse that raced within. John felt the power of speech leave him again as Sherlock leaned closer to him. He could feel the detectives breath on his face, could still smell his own arousal from the previous night mixed in with the scent of the coffee as Sherlock spoke again, low and certain.

"When I feel this John it is not about science, or your reactions.. it is about my own. I do not understand why this gives me pleasure but knowing I do this to you makes me happier than I have ever been. I do not express myself well John. My dear John. But maybe I could learn.. with you..?" The detectives eyes fell to his hand, which was still looped about Johns wrist. His admission burned, his face flushed.

John blinked several times, felt the tears pricking his eyes. He could see Sherlock struggling with what he had said. Sherlock was allowing John to look beneath the mask he wore, not that he hadn't before, but this was a hidden and long forgotten place. This was emotion and he had chosen John above all others, a fact that the doctor could not quite comprehend, but God, he knew he couldn't let this go. Not now. Not ever. He had a feeling in his head that this was his home.

Slowly John pulled his wrist from Sherlocks fingers. He saw the crestfallen face, the flush of embarrassment of allowing John to see him so.. unwrapped. Undone. Emotional.

"Hey Sherlock." John cooed softly. Sherlock glanced up, the light of a tear glinting in his eyes. John smiled softly and swallowed as his decision came to him swiftly. "Would you like me to swallow you down Sherlock?" The look on the detectives face was so priceless. His eyes widened in shock. His mouth came open and his pupils widened swallowing up the colour in his eyes.

"What?" it was a breathless word. John smiled shyly.

"I said.." John lowered his tone, his voice deepened and his eyes gleamed playfully as he caught his hand against Sherlocks jaw, his thumb running thoughtfully over the detectives full lips. "..would you.." John leaned in, his lips close but not touching the other mans "like me.." a feather of a kiss "to.." another kiss, Johns other hand dropping the duvet that was bunched up around him to tangle in the detectives curls "swallow.." John pulled back to look with intensity into Sherlocks eyes "you.. down." Sherlock stared for a moment and then blinked once which indicted he had finished processing what had just passed between them.

"But.. I thought.." Sherlocks words were lost on a moan as Johns mouth took his roughly. Sharp teeth bit at his lower lip as Johns tongue demanded access to his mouth. John felt his erection start, it had been threatening for a while, ever since Sherlock had told him all he needed to persuade him. Johns hand tugged hard at the other mans hair, causing a tortured groan of want to escape into his mouth. The sound echoed through the doctor, down his spine, it caused the blood to pump faster to the place that was now throbbing between Johns thighs. Pulling back out of the kiss but not relinquishing his grip John took in the detective. His mouth was red and bruised, his eyes large and lustful.

"I was wrong" John said horsely. He saw the flash of uncertainty in the eyes that filled his vision.

"John?" John smiled.

"Oh Sherlock. I was so wrong." the doctor tugged on the dark curls again, wrapping them in his fist. Sherlocks eyes darkened as pain throbbed through his skull. His breathing was short and needful. The doctor pulled him closer, moving his own head so that his mouth was against the detectives ear. John licked it gently and then bit the lobe, pleased with the gasp that followed the action.

"I want you" John whispered against Sherlock. Sherlock didn't make a sound, but he shivered with want against John. John kissed the detectives cheek tenderly and loosened his grip so that the other man could turn. He did, his eyes soft, a little wet maybe, disbelief dancing in them. John kissed that sweet mouth then.

"You hear that Sherlock?" he asked against his mouth "I want you. Always have. Probably always will. We'll see what happens yes?" Sherlock smiled against his doctor. His own hand catching the doctors hair and pulling him to that mouth again.

"Oh yes John." he moaned.

Squeee! Oh, you are in for a filthy treat next time my lovelies. I can't wait... Think I might get John to get all embarrassed when he goes to buy something and bumps into Sarah!

Spoilers. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

For Benny, you do us proud everyday, but today especially.

Had to post to celebrate. Naughty texts and a 'date'. ;) filth.

Enjoy. x

Chapter 5 - Promise.

Johns intention was, certainly at that moment, to strip Sherlock of his clothes, self-control and leave him a trembling mess on the bed by the time he had finished with him. Screw it. He wanted this man, and all the conventions and lines he had drawn in his life were rapidly going out of the nearest window. But as the two men pressed together, throbbing with need, tongues wrapping around each others Johns phone sounded its annoying and hidious sound. John Froze in the act of kissing the detective. Sherlock groaned. John mumbled against him and pulled back.

"Shit." he cursed. Shaking his head he drew back from Sherlock. "shit, shit, shit. Oh, Sherlock, I'm sorry, can you unlock the door please? I've got to go to work today." Sherlock looked at John, with his tousled hair and flushed skin and pouted beautifully.

"Can't you just.. not?' he asked petulantly. John screwed his face up and the detective could see he didn't want to leave anymore than Sherlock wanted him to leave.

"Damn." the doctor muttered under his breath. Closing his eyes to regain some self control, he then took both of Sherlocks hands in his own. "Ah, Sherlock. You know I would love to do that. But if I don't go in today Sarah will probably ask me to cover tomorrow instead and I rather like my saturdays." the man sighed "Jeez, you have no idea what I would like to do to you right now.." Sherlocks breath caught at the promise glinting in Johns eyes "But.. Look, Lestrade will no doubt be back if you don't go and sort out.. whatever it is he wants you to sort out.. and maybe.." a grin came to Johns face "..a little frustration can be good.. If you let me out of here now Sherlock I promise you a night to remember and a whole weekend to remember." John looked intently into his friends face. Sherlocks pout had lessened a little. The damned alarm was still going off somewhere in the flat. "Sherlock..?" the detective sighed deeply and shut his eyes, his forehead coming to rest against Johns.

"Alright" he said grudgingly "but I expect big things later." John smiled and gently kissed the mans mouth.

"You won't be disappointed" John whispered, hoping upon hope that he could be as good as his word. Sherlock gently released his hands from Johns grip and got up from his bed to retrieve the key from its high prison. A little smirk was on his lips now.

"I'll hold you to that John." he said as he unlocked the bedroom door.

John had taken a quick shower before leaving the flat. Sherlock had winked at him as he left the flat on his way to Lestrade, looking stupidly sexy in his too tight shirt and suit.

"Remember John." he had said, the wink promising obscene things. John had taken a few more minutes to calm himself before leaving 221B. God, what had he done? The more sensible part of his brain screamed the danger of perusing this. But then when had John ever listened to his warning bells when it came to Sherlock Holmes?

The doctor decided a brisk walk to the surgery would do him the power of good. Shake out the cobwebs.. and his frustration at having to go to work instead of staying in bed debauching his mad housemate.

As John walked he thought of Sherlocks words. He looked curiously at some of the men that passed him. Some were handsome, others plain. All dull. He glanced at their faces, their figures, hips and backsides. Nothing stirred in him that suggested he fancied any of them. And then he thought of Sherlocks eyes. The way his hair tumbled about his face. His posture, his cheekbones, his arms. His bare feet when he wandered listlessly around the flat. And John smiled. No he wasn't gay. But he was gay for Sherlock.

The doctor felt light on his feet as he entered the surgery. He felt that the walk had helped, he felt clearer. Why fight the feeling? Yes, Sherlock was right, as always. What did it matter that John was a man? What did it matter that Sherlock was? They had lived together for so long now, John could see that in many ways they were ultimately a couple. And now he could almost understand Sarah's, and the other women he had dated since, frustration. They and she had seen it long before he had. Ah well. He had got there.. finally.

John entered the surgery to see Sarah behind the reception desk. She glanced up. Her eyes clouded and hardened as she saw her ex. Oh no Sarah, not today. You will not ruin my mood now. John would have normally slunk away to his office to avoid the accusing stare that he hadn't until now really understood. But he got it now, and was determined that the chill between them would stop here. Striding forward confidently he grinned.

"Morning Sarah" he sang out cheerfully. Sarah blinked twice. Well, she had not been expecting that. John had barely spoken to her since they had broken up and she hated it. She hated the fact that she couldn't be friends with this man, for she knew in her heart he was a good one. And she hated the fact that the reason that the air between then had been tainted so was because she had, in a moment of pure frustration, accused John of being in denial over a certain housemate of his.

"Uh, morning." she replied and frowned slightly. "You seem cheerful?" John smiled warmly, his eyes glinted with a secret. A secret that made him happy.

"It is a glorious morning Sarah. Coffee before the hoards of the sick descend?" Sarah smiled a little then. It was like someone had flipped a switch and the old John was back. Happy carefree John.

"Please" was the slightly shy reply. Sarah turned back to the files she was going through. A little guilt spread through her. Damn, she had been bad to this man. After they split up she had felt so frustrated. They had never had sex, something Sarah had wanted, but John was never around long enough to get down to. Too busy nearly getting himself killed for that gorgeous friend of his. She had, somewhat harshly, said a few nasty things to some of the other staff the morning after their last fight. Had basically said John was gay.. or frigid. She knew the latter was probably not true, but she had been angry. Unfortunately these things just run and run. And the coldness had grown from there. It was ice. She had missed Johns warmth around the surgery though. Damn, she had treated him very poorly.

Sarah jumped suddenly. She had been absently looking at the records and then John was behind her.

"Coffee Sarah.. oh god, sorry.." Sarah spun about. John grinned. "did I make you jump?" He handed her the coffee.

"Uh Yeah." there was an awkward silence. "Um.. look John I just want to say.. I'm sorry." John frowned but didn't reply. "I..I was angry with you John." Sarah gave an unsure smile "I'm not anymore. I missed you." John blinked. Sarah balked. "Oh no.. not like that.. well.. but.. I missed you smiling John. I missed our talks. I was a bitch to you, I didn't mean to be but I can't take it back now and it's true. I was. Can we just start again. As friends?" John took a step forward. He knew he shouldn't give in so easily. Give Sarah a little of what she had given to him, but ah hell. Today was a good day. A new day. A new beginning. He nodded.

"Go on then" he grinned. Sarah let go of a breath that she felt she had been holding in since they had fought.

"Thanks." She gave a grin. "and I'm sorry about what I said about you and Sherlock. It was out of line. Your a good man John, if anyone can fix him you can." Johns eyes sparkled. The secret was back. He chuckled. Sarah was more perceptive than she knew. Maybe he would tell her someday, if this went well.

"Thanks" John grinned "So.. who have I got in today?"

Sherlocks day was going at a pace he didn't appreciate. He was frustrated. Not that he wasn't used to that, but Johns promise was only making the day go slower and his frustration coil tighter. Lestrade had been in an insufferably cheerful mood.

"Ah, Sherlock. Glad you could join us at last. We arrested a woman the other day for killing her husband. Seemed like an open and shut case. Jealousy, she shot him and then attempted to shoot herself. She's in hospital under police guard. But she kept going on about these messages she had received. Seems like they must be important as she seems to remember nothing else. Amnesia due to trauma. We though it was a load of rubbish, but when we searched her house we found what she was on about. Childish pictures of little stick men lined up together. We think there may be more to this than we first thought, but we have no idea what the figures represent." Sherlock sighed.

"Right. Let me see." Lestrade passed him the pictures. It took Sherlock thirty seconds.

"it's a code. Obviously."

"Code?"

"Yes." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I mean really. You can't see it. This figure here is repeated. Obviously breaks between words. So three letter word here and on this one here and here." Sherlock set the pictures up on Lestrades pin board quickly. "The same letters repeated. Could be cat is suppose.. more likely to be THE" Sherlocks shook his head in annoyance. Lestrade blinked.

"So.."

"So.." Sherlock continued frustrated "you have three letters to begin with. If this is E look through the rest of the code to find the rest.. here.. pass me a pencil." Lestrade did and then looked worried as Sherlock began quickly writing letters over the figures.

"Uh.. Sherlock.. thats evidence!"

"You haven't got any evidence unless you work this out. So, look for obvious vowels. Single letter here. Either I or A, Looking at the figure I would say an A due to the fact that the arms are angled out and down. This here is a T I would say. The arms are stretched out across, the rest of the figure straight. So you have A T H E. Ah! A child's puzzle!" Sherlock quickly worked out the rest of the code while Lestrade wrung his hands and made uncomfortable noises about 'the evidence'. Within half an hour each note was figured out and Sherlock had discovered the woman had had a lover. The lover was jealous and shot the husband. The woman shot herself as she blamed herself. Simple. The man in question had even signed himself off in his notes.

Lestrade shook his head in amazement.

"I'll get one of the team to get the info on him then. Get him arrested and see what we can find in his house. Thanks Sherlock." the detective sniffed and nodded curtly.

"So..." Lestrade drawled, whilst looking at the drawings in fascination. "Hows John?" Sherlock froze for a fraction of a second. Just that name sent a shiver through him. Ah, tonight was too far away.

"He's fine."

"At work?" Sherlock sighed.

"Yes. He does seem to like the mundane on occasion." Lestrade snorted.

"Can you blame him? Must be nice not getting shot at sometimes."

"Boring." Sherlocks foot tapped. He was trying to decide how to fill the rest of his day. Damn it. He wanted John.

"You miss him when he's not here don't you?" Lestrade asked the detective suddenly, turning on his heal to meet Sherlocks eye. And Sherlock blushed. Damn, he hadn't been prepared for that question. Damn his body. Damn his reactions. Damn his brain. Sherlock looked away and then back at Lestrade, who had a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes." Sherlock answered honestly. Best to just call it. "now if your done with me I'll be off." Lestrade grinned.

"Alright then, off you go." The detective inspector giggled to himself as Sherlock left his office.

The text came though at just after three. John had seen most of his patients, but still had a few had ones, and was writing up some notes.

'BORED. WHEN ARE YOU HOME? SH' John smiled as he read it. He was amazed the detective hadn't text him before this.

'AROUND FIVE. MIGHT GET AWAY EARLY. NEED TO PICK SOMETHING UP ON MY WAY HOME. DO YOU WANT ME TO GET FOOD? JW'

'YOUR CHOICE. HUNGRY. NOT EATEN. DON'T WANT FOOD. SH.' John shook his head. Ah, trying to get Sherlock to eat. It was a full time occupation.

"IF YOUR HUNGRY WHY DON'T YOU WANT FOOD? JW'

'NOT HUNGRY IN THE SENSE YOU MEAN IT JOHN. SH' John blinked at the text, just as his next patient knocked at the door.

'IN WHAT SENSE SHERLOCK? I AM GETTING CHINESE. YOU WILL EAT IT. JW' John slipped the phone in his pocket quickly and continued with his work. He heard it buzz halfway through the appointment. Wondered what it would say. Dammit, he would make the man eat if it killed him. He quickly checked his phone as his patient was removing his upper clothing for an examination.

'LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING HOW YOU WILL MAKE ME EAT. I AM HUNGRY FOR YOU JOHN. I WANT TO DEVOUR YOU. REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE. DON'T BE LATE. SH' John gasped, his patient looked slightly perturbed. John shook his head. Damn Sherlock. Now his mind was on other things again. Like that mouth and oh, how he would 'make' Sherlock eat.

"Sorry" John murmured to his half naked patient, tucking his phone away without bothering to answer.

At four thirty John appeared to be about done. He quickly nipped onto the internet. He needed to research a few things for tonight. Okay.. lube. Boots seemed a good enough place. Quite a range. Silky, water based, flavored. Hmmm, heat. Interesting. Wow, what a subject to be checking out at work. Scribling a few ideas down John decided he'd better check anatomy. John grinned as he updated his fairly substantial library on the male body. He thought of Sherlocks. He wanted to undress that man and just prove what a little medical knowledge could be used for. Clicking on a link Johns eyes widened. The video played. Oh my. The two men on screen moaned incoherently. One stretched the others muscles with practiced fingers. John was hypnotized.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. John jumped.

"Uh.. um.. hang on.." John fumbled to stop the video as the sounds of the two men filled his consulting room. Sarah had obviously not heard him because the door came open and her head poked around it.

"Uh, John. You can go if you.." Her smile faded first to an expression of confusion followed by an out and out smirk. John finally managed to stop the video. His office fell deathly silent. His eyes caught Sarah's and saw the smirk. John couldn't stop the blush that ran into his cheeks. Sarah stepped in playfully and shut the door.

"What are you doing John?' she asked. John shut his eyes and sighed.

"research" ah, such a Sherlockian answer, if only he could be as dismissive as the detective could be.

"Oh really. Sounds like interesting research." John blushed further.

"It.. it's nothing." Sarah gave him a suspicious look.

"John, I know that Sherlock makes you think that the rest of the human race is stupid, but believe me, not all of us are."

"No.. I.. No." John shook his head. "Did you want something anyway?" Sarah smirked again.

"Thought I'd just tell you that you could go home." she giggled "probably a better place to do that kind of research." She crossed swiftly across the room before John could protest and then ducked behind the desk to stand beside him. She took in the frozen scene on Johns screen. "Well.." she said, one eyebrow raised a little "I can't say that I'm surprised, but that's all i'll say." John looked at Sarah. Her eyes were soft. They dropped to a quickly scrawled note beside the still blushing doctor. "Wow, quite a shopping list." Johns head hit the desk.

"Ahhh, Sarah.." he moaned frustrated. Sarah placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Go home John." she smiled softly "I promise this will go no further." John looked up at her. She turned to go but stopped at the door. "Go John." she said "he'll be waiting for you." John stared at her. Sarah gave him a regretful but understanding look and quickly turned and left the room.

John sighed. Oh God. Sarah so knew, and nothing had happened really yet. Dammit. His phone buzzed.

'HOME. NOW. SH." John smiled, quickly shut down his computer and grabbed his jacket and list. Screw it.

'LEAVING. GETTING FOOD. YOU WILL EAT IF HAVE TO TIE YOU DOWN AND FORCE IT INTO YOU.' he knew how that sounded, but he wanted Sherlock begging him later "ALSO HAVE TO GET SOMETHING FROM BOOTS. HOT OR COLD? JW' John pressed send and grinned. He bounced out of his room, smiled at Sarah on his way.

"See you monday!" he called. He caught her smile. John didn't care. His phone buzzed again.

'HOT OR COLD? OH, AND I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY. SH.'

'WORK IT OUT CONSULTING DETECTIVE. YOU JUST WAIT. JW.' it took a few minutes for an answer. Ha, John felt quite pleased as he looked through the Boots range.

'BOTH. COME HOME. SH' Okay then! John grabbed three bottles of lube and bounced to the tills.

Sherlock was at the flat. He had been since lunch. He'd conducted a couple of experiments involving cyanide, but got bored very quickly. He wanted John. Ah, when had he got.. got so needy? Sherlock had never needed anyone. But John. John was like a drug. He hoped his texts had got to the doctor. The doctors later texts had certainly got to him. His phone buzzed. Sherlock snatched it up.

'BOTH. THERE ARE CANDLES IN THE KITCHEN BEHIND THE BREAD-BIN. PUT SOME ON AND DON'T SET THE FLAT ON FIRE. GETTING FOOD. HOME SOON. JW.'

Sherlock growled. Damn it was after five. He had told John to get home over half an hour ago. Chucking the phone down Sherlock found the candles John spoke of. He grabbed a couple of old wine bottles and pushed the candles in. That was harder than he had first imagined. He twisted them viciously and a filthy thought shot through his head. The thought seemed to re-direct his blood flow. Oh good grief, John had given him a simple task and he was finding it arousing. The detective shook himself. Carefully he carried the unlit candles into the sitting room and set them down. He lit a fire and then the candles. God, he felt hot. His clothes felt tight. John would be here soon. He had to be.

Sherlock flopped onto the sofa, all limbs and angles and watched the candles burn. The wax dripping down and down to the lip of the bottle he had forced them into. He shuddered. His cock throbbed. What was it he was thinking, he had little experience with such matters, but somehow the wax dripping made him think of the candle being shoved somewhere else. What a delightful punishment that would make. Sitting up, Sherlock ran a finger through the wax that had dripped down the bottle. It was warm and soft but not hot. He allowed the next drip of wax to splatter his wrist. The burn shot through his veins and down to his groin to pulse there. The wax cooled and hardened and the detective studied it with fascination. He was learning things he had never known. He wanted to try it all. The throb in his stiffening cock told him as much. Oh my, John, we are going to have so much fun.

Suddenly the detective stiffened. He heard Johns footfall outside. Heard the key in the lock. Quickly Sherlock jumped up and switched off the lights. He draped himself across the sofa and closed his eyes. His body was on fire.

John reached the top step. He could feel the warmth radiating from the flat and sighed in contentment. Tonight would be good. Tonight would be perfect. He could cut the tension radiating from through the door with a knife and he wasn't even in yet. Slowly John opened the door to the flat. It was dark apart from the fire and flickering flames and the light coming from the kitchen. John blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust.

Ah, Sherlock. The man lay languidly on the sofa, all soft curls and sharp angles and white skin. His shirt was unbuttoned to the forth, his cheeks were pink and his chest flushed. He smelt of sex.

John almost dropped the bags the was carrying. His instinct wanted him to rush to the man laid out like a meal before him and devour him instantly. He thought of a few times before when he had seen Sherlock in the position he was in now. He had looked he realized. He had considered that body. But now it was out and every thought turned to what he wanted to do to his wicked detective. However John was a restrained man. This he wanted to take slow. This he wanted to enjoy. And he wanted dinner with the man first. Call it a first date. John turned to the kitchen, ignoring Sherlocks large eyes that looked out seductively from under his fringe.

"I bought wine." John said, far more steadily than he thought he would. Ten points to John. Sherlock didn't answer, John imagined him to be pouting. Taking off his coat and getting out plates first he crossed back through the lounge to the sofa with the wine bottle and two glasses. "I missed you today." John said to the man who was gazing up at him longingly. The doctor dropped a kiss on his forehead. Felt the detective shiver and hid a smirk. For once John had the upper hand. "Now, uncork this and pour me a glass while I get chinese for us." Sherlock smiled. It was a deeply seductive look.

"Are you trying to get me drunk doctor?" he asked in a low voice. John grinned.

"Don't think I need to." came the cheeky reply "However I need to unwind and I don't want you with all your senses intact, so wine." Sherlock smiled then. An open smile.

"I don't think you have to worry on that account doctor, my senses haven't been intact all day." John laughed.

"Well a little more persuasion can't harm. Now get on with it." John gave Sherlock a stern look, one that sent shivers through Sherlock, and he crossed back into the kitchen. The detective sat up a little and pulled the silver covering away from the bottle. Screwing the corkscrew in languidly, Sherlocks head was again filled with the thoughts that had begun with forcing the candle and watching the wax. They now continued and expanded as he watched the screw disappear into the soft yielding cork. A moan escaped the detectives lips. Oh god, what the hell was John doing to his brain?

"Did you say something Sherlock?" John said, poking his head round the door. The detective looked flushed. He flushed deeper as he saw John.

"Uh.. nothing John. Just trying to.." Sherlock pretended to be struggling with the cork. John smirked.

"come on now Sherlock.. I know how strong.." Johns voice tailed off, just as Sherlock drew the cork from the bottle with a loud pop. "..you are." Johns voice was now barely a whisper. The mens eyes met as the sound hit the air. Sherlocks breath caught. He wanted John to plug him up as tightly as that wine bottle had been plugged. Not that he had ever done that before. He had managed to fend off the advances at least to that degree. But he wanted that so badly. John flushed, and the detective wondered if the same thought had entered the doctors head.

"Okay." John now almost squeaked, his self control faltering. "Food." he dived back to the safe kitchen. He had practically heard Sherlocks obscene thought. His eyes told the story.

Sherlock poured the wine out generously. Okay John, take my senses. I want you to. John reappeared from the kitchen holding two plates full of chinese food and a bag with fortune cookies in it.

He gently gave a plate to Sherlock and then sat in his own chair. Sherlock pouted.

"Eat first. Here.." John picked up his wine. "A toast to the most insane idea since ideas were invented" Sherlocks took his glass and tipped it in agreement. "and to.." John considered "what I can only describe as our first date.. although I'm not sure it completely counts." Sherlocks frowned.

"Date?" he asked.

"well, what would you call it?" Sherlock grinned.

"I have never dated anyone in my life."

"Just like you've never begged anyone in your life, but count on it Sherlock you'll be begging me later." the words had left Johns mouth before he'd had time to think about them. The mens eyes locked. Sherlocks eyes had widened, his pupils had dilated. He was in a fixed state of arousal he realized. Oh dear me John. The detective smiled, almost shyly.

"I'll hold you to that doctor" he murmured and raised his glass. "To our 'date'"

John had finished up most of his food. Sherlock had eaten a little but had played with it mostly. John watched him sternly. They had talked, but nothing out of their usual way. Sherlock was obviously distracted, the fact that he had eaten anything pointed to it.

"So John." he asked "what does one do on a date?' John smiled.

"Well you can eat, talk like we are. Do fun things."

"Like?" Sherlock was curious.

"Go to see a film. Watch a DVD."

"Dull"

"Um.. go for drink. Maybe clubbing."

"You.." Sherlock looked worried "You don't want to go clubbing do you John?" John laughed.

"Uh, no. Getting a bit old for all that now Sherlock." the detective heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm happy just being here with you, a date doesn't have to be exciting. It's about getting to know someone" Sherlock blinked.

"But.. you do know me."

"Don't I just."

"Then what is this experience for?"John smiled softly and put his plate to one side. He got up and then in gesture that once again had Sherlock nerves on edge he dropped to his knees and crawled to sit beside the detective.

"It's not just about that. It's for you and for me. I like to do things.. properly. And I know the way this happened wasn't exactly conventional, but I would just like to honor the tradition." Sherlock nodded but John knew he didn't understand. "Dates aren't just about those things though. If your lucky you might get a kiss... or two.. or more. And then who knows?"

"And this is what people do?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes." John very gently leaned over to Sherlocks hand and took his empty fork from him. "but before we get to DVD's, clubbing, kissing, making you scream my name I'm going to get you to eat." Sherlocks cheeks flushed. John knew how to keep him on the edge. Ah Damn it, the man was so.. wicked. John took a forkful of food up and looked at it.

"Looks good Sherlock. Do you want to try it?" Johns other hand brushed the muscle of Sherlocks arm gently. The detective twitched and swallowed. Contact. Obediently he nodded. "Okay then" John said low and soft. He fed Sherlock the food. "now what about a bit more? Johns hand skittered up to Sherlocks shoulder. He massaged the firm curve. And Sherlock found that he complied. The more he ate, the more John stroked. His collar bone, his neck, his jaw and back. Sherlock knew he should resist. This was too easy, but God he just wanted John to keep doing that. It was then Johns fingers drifted around a hardening nipple, Sherlock groaned as he took the last of the food sweetly. John smiled in triumph.

"There. Good boy. That wasn't so bad. We can continue with the date now. Coffee?" Sherlock swallowed hard as John pulled his hand away and quickly took the plate from Sherlock. He stood swiftly, not trusting Sherlock, he would try and drag him back. John wasn't ready for that yet. Let him simmer.

"Coffee?" Sherlocks question was practically a groan. "These rituals take up a lot of valuable time John." But John was across the room and into the kitchen making coffee. He grinned around the door at the detective.

"Yes. But good things come to those who are patient"

"But I'm not patient" Sherlock groaned.

"I know, and that is why this will do you good." John disappeared.

Sherlock sipped at the black coffee in his hand, It was strong. He watched the last flickers of the candles.

"We could do with more light Sherlock." John commented as he broke open a fortune cookie. "I can't read this." Sherlock ducked his head down. John was sat next to him against the sofa. The detective had begun to wonder if John had been having him on about tonight. The wine didn't help.

"It says 'You will be in thrall to a dangerous person'" Johns eyes met Sherlocks.

"You made that up." he giggled. Sherlock shook his head. Grabbing the now empty wine bottle he took up one of the spare candles that were scattered on the low table beside him and began to screw it into the bottle. John giggled again. Sherlock looked up, amused.

"What John?"

"Nothing" Sherlock smirked. Johns funny little brain had probably had the same thought his had. Probably the wine breaking down his barriers. Well, lets test the theory.

"It's funny John. I've always kept my mind clean, but earlier when I was doing this exact same movement I thought the most filthy thing." Sherlock said it as matter of fact as he could manage. The fact that the act had once again stirred him up did not help. John looked up.

"You want to be fucked with a candle?" he mused, laughter in his voice, and then the doctor froze as Sherlocks eyes had met his. They had darkened.

"You have it in one doctor." came the low dangerous reply. The detective made no move towards John, but continued, lighting the candle off another. "and then I watched it John. Just watched the wax sliding down it. I wondered what it would feel like.. burning my skin. So I tried it." John shuddered. "It was an experiment John. I have to say that I rather enjoyed the sensation. But it was only my wrist. I wonder John what it would feel like it more.. sensitive areas." Johns breath had heightened, and he could feel his erection beginning as Sherlocks words wove round him like threads of honey. Sherlock smirked and then took a deep breath. "Anyway, you were wondering about your fortune cookie... Sherlock leaned down so that his mouth was almost against Johns ear. The candle lit up the shred of paper. "You see John. In thrall to a dangerous person." the detective whispered, allowing his breath to bounce off the doctors ear and neck. "Am I dangerous John?" Sherlock tipped the candle and allowed a little wax to splash onto Johns arm. John gasped, his body flinched and then his eyes lit. Sherlock quickly disposed of the candle and bottle safely. He knew that look. He had seen it before, when he and John ran. When he and John were fighting for their lives. It was what he lived for. That dangerous feral look. Sherlock had a good idea what was coming.

John growled deep in his chest.

"You are in so much trouble Sherlock."

"Is this part of the date?" Sherlock asked as innocently as he could.

"Oh, you are in so much trouble." the detective stretched and slid further down the sofa so that he was closer to the doctor. His lips close to Johns now. Hovering, neither man willing to make the first move.

"Remember your promise John" Sherlock said and that was the tipping point. John snarled.

"Oh you'll remember" and his lips were on the detectives. Each man biting and pushing and fighting for dominance. And John won. His tongue pushed its way roughly past Sherlocks shapely lips to explore every inch of the younger mans mouth. John grabbed Sherlocks upper arms and pulled him off the sofa on top of him. Sherlock wrestled for dominance but John rolled him and pinned the detectives hips with his strong legs.

"Is this part of the date?" Sherlock panted beneath the strong army doctor.

"No.." John panted back dangerously "but as I'm apparently dating a 'dangerous person' whose had a raging erection since before I stepped into sight and who is so obviously turned on by the thought of having a lit candle shoved up his arse, I figured that this was the best thing to do." and Johns mouth was back, devouring the detectives. Pinning Sherlocks hands firmly above his head with one arm, while the other hand tangled roughly in the detectives hair. "This..." John growled into Sherlocks mouth "Is payback for last night. For making me question myself. For dragging me out of the closet. For making me WANT you." Sherlock let out a moan. John pulled his head back to look in to the detectives eyes, his hand fisting in those curls holding him still. "You once said you'd never begged for anything in your life Sherlock. Well just remember what I said... Tonight you will."

Oh! What naughty,naughty boys. This Story just keeps expanding. But had to update tonight due to Benny winning an Oliver award. You make your bitches proud.

Ah, I can't wait to write the next chapter. Sorry I couldn't make this longer. Not enough hours. Forgot to eat because of it. I mean really.

Oh, I was watching the dancing men in case you spotted my 'tribute' to it.

Catch you later.


	6. Chapter 6

Many thanks to all of you who have reviewed this story. It makes me muchly happy.

Booda77 - I'm glad I've bought you to the dark side away from sweet little Molly. :)

Meredithriddle - Heh. Yeah, I didn't forget to eat this time, as took me week to finish this chapter. Thanks for your reviews. x

Emmish - More nasty John this time around. I'm so glad you find it so. It is my calling to make people happy. ;)

OK, so Johns ready to be a naughty naughty boy. Ummmm.. see what he does to poor little Sherlock.. Hmmm. I think he likes it though!

So heres the warnings. This is very dirty. It has (so far) light bondage, light pain, biting and full M/M sex. John/Sherlock pairing. Bit of lemon here too. Discussion of forced sex acts and a little bit of love. If thats not your thing run away now. If it is then please do enjoy.

Got somewhat carried away here. The boys insist on taking over my mind palace.. Could have split into two chapters and had a nice lazy week next week.. but I thought you'd all waited long enough. I had no idea what to call this chapter and then this song cropped up at dance class and it kinda seemed to fit. Let me know if you have a better idea. I hope you enjoy. Please review. I'd be lost without my reviews. :) Much love. x

Chapter 6 - Moonlight becomes you.

Sherlock groaned deeply as Johns mouth descended back onto his, the doctors words worming their way through his nervous system, alighting every nerve ending. Twisting in his head, coiling down his spine to pulse angrily in his groin and down into his already rock hard cock. Sherlock wrapped his long clever tongue about Johns furiously thrusting, demanding one. The detective tried to push past Johns lips, but the doctors teeth bit at him, stopping his attempted assault. Sherlock moaned deep into Johns mouth, little mewling noises escaping his chest as he tried to breathe. John pulled away again, never letting go of the other mans curls, he looked deep into the eyes of the now thoroughly kissed detective. Sherlocks breath came in gasps, his eyes were almost black with desire, he looked otherworldly.. almost supernatural. Oh God, how good was John. John let go of Sherlocks hair to wrap his hand about the detectives pale white throat gently, his fingers tracing it softly.

"You are an animal Sherlock." John said with the calm of a man who was intending to stay in control. Sherlock smiled dangerously.

"It was you that released that animal John." he replied, flashing his teeth.

"No... no.." John soothed "You always have been. That dark feral look in your eyes when your hunting, like a wild dog after it's prey. I've seen it many times, but it's darker now. Even more dangerous. But just so we're clear.. tonight Sherlock I'm the hunter and you are going to be devoured." the body of the detective shook beneath the doctors. "but I want to take this slow, so.. we need to make a deal." John suddenly pressed his crotch down hard against Sherlocks and the other man jolted violently. "You want this? Then you behave. You let me show you. Understand?" Sherlock bucked his hips, John lost his grasp for a second and hissed in pleasure at the sudden friction. Sherlock growled and attempted to throw the doctor off balance. John gripped his thighs down tighter and tightened his hand about Sherlocks throat.

"ah ah ah. Shhh.." he soothed. Sherlocks eyes flared. Damn it, he wanted John, but he didn't like being the one out of control. He was always in control, but he could feel it slipping away inch by tantalizing inch. Part of him wanted it he knew, but the stubborn part of him didn't want to acknowledge it. Johns hand relinquished its grip on the detectives throat and his fingers drifted lazily over the curves there. Sherlock shivered as those clever doctors fingers traced his adams apple, his jaw. He sighed sensually. John smiled.

"You see." he whispered. "let go Sherlock. Let me steer you. You do trust me don't you?" Sherlock stiffened, but John compensated, leaning forward lazily now to brush his lips over the sharp line of the others mans jaw, down over the soft yielding skin beneath. He felt Sherlock relax again.

"Yes John. I trust you." the detective moaned out softly. He lifted his head and John looked up to meet his gaze. "Do you really think I would be here letting you touch me like this if I didn't? Do you think I would let anyone in my bed but you John? Do you think I would have done that which I did for you last night if I didn't?" the detective asked the doctor now softly. The animal was quiet for a moment, but still flashing behind those eyes. John stilled and released Sherlocks hands so that he could stroke softly at his curls. He smiled.

"Good, I'm glad you do. But what you did last night, that was not new to you was it?" Sherlock eyes widened fractionally, his body again stiffened. John gently petted his hair to calm him. Sherlocks eyes dropped away from Johns. Damn John. Why did he have to bring that up. Sherlock would never have.. with anyone if he had had a choice. Well, anyone but John. He closed his eyes, tried to still himself, but the softness was breaking him down. Johns fingers were soothing and tender. Oh so tender. It was too much. Sherlock had never been touched this way before. He had never had a tender touch. Not as a child, his Mother was not affectionate. His Father was never around. Mycroft. Mycroft had always tried to protect him Sherlock knew. But it was too much, far too much. Damn his childhood trauma, but he had never touched his brother except to hurt him. It was not in his nature. Mycroft and he were adults before they were even children.

Sherlock turned his head away, he couldn't let John see him this way. Damn him, why must he be so.. gentle? And then the tears welled over and up into Sherlocks eyes.

"Sherlock?' Johns voice was far away. "Sherlock." Johns hand now stopped it gently stroking to once again tangle in the detectives hair. John pulled Sherlocks head back to face him. The tears that had been threatening were broken by the movement and spilled. "Oh Sherlock" John said. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that... Shall we just.. stop?" Sherlocks eyes met the doctors. Johns eyes were swimming too. Oh no John. It's not you John. Sherlock shook his head furiously and bit his lip. John leaned down and kissed him. "In that case Sherlock you need to tell me some things. I need to know what happened to you." Sherlocks brow crumpled up, his eyes intense.

"Thats..." the detective gulped around the lump in his throat and tried again "Thats not why I am.. crying." a half laugh bubbled up in his throat. God, he was crying. John frowned. "I.. It's just that.. the way you touched me. I.. oh John, it was overload. I've never been touched in that way before." John watched the detective with concern.

"In what way Sherlock?" he asked gently. Sherlocks eyes welled again slightly.

"gently." he replied shakily. John blinked at the earnest reply. "It was.. it made me.. emotional. The detective frowned, looked ashamed.

"You know that thats okay Sherlock? You are allowed to feel."

"But.. I have John. I've felt things for you, but not like this. This was.. it was tender. I don't do tender John. Have never known how."

"Oh Sherlock, what did your family do to you?" John sighed out sadly. Sherlock gave a little chuckle.

"Nothing. Maybe that is the problem. We.. our.. my family are different. Mycroft and I were.. we were being trained for roles. Mycroft achieved his. Me.. well.." Sherlock gave a wry smile "I never liked being told what to do." John laughed a little at that. He smiled down on his weeping detective and gently stroked the tears away from his face. He hated this, but he knew that Sherlock had probably needed this for a long time. To just let go. To let go of the rules imposed on him since childhood, to let go of the fear of retribution if he showed any kind of emotional response.

"I grew up a long time ago John. I was never a child." John smiled.

"Must be why your a child now." Sherlock laughed then. His hands came up to stroke at Johns face.

"This is strange John. Feeling you. Touching you in this way. It is not what I am used to.." John bit his lip. "Mummy would never let me touch her. Go near her. She hated us I think. Hated me for not doing as the family commanded."

"Oh Sherlock." Sherlock smiled.

"It doesn't matter John."

"It does. It matters. You matter." Sherlocks fingers traced along Johns jaw leaving shivers behind.

"You asked me a question John. Seem that I've got somewhat distracted." John watched the detective silently but his eyes willed him to talk.

"I.. I was at boarding school. With Mycroft. I knew that some of the other boys.." Sherlocks eyes flickered "well.. but Mycroft was there. He protected me." the word protected was spat out angrily "Too much I think. If he hadn't I might have been able to protect myself after he left." John stroked Sherlocks hair and willed him to continue.

"I.. well.. as I mentioned before I was 'pretty'. The first time it was two of them. Older than me. They punched me. Had me on my knees and they forced me to..." Sherlocks lips curled in anger.

"What Sherlock?" John pressed gently.

"They used my throat. Used my mouth. I felt so.. Fuck John. I don't want to remember." the detective spat, ripping his hands from Johns face to clench them tightly at his sides. John stroked Sherlocks head more firmly.

"Shhh.." he soothed "it's okay" Sherlocks lips quivered.

"I just want you John. Damn it." John smiled a little, flattered, but he needed to know what Sherlock had and hadn't had done to him. He couldn't do anything in good consciousness without knowing what boundaries he was pushing at.

"You'll have me." John said tenderly and bit his lip. "but did they.. you know.. touch you, use you in any other way?" his doctors voice kicked in. Sherlock eyes showed understanding.

"Oh.. OH. No.. No John. I knew enough to fend that off. There was one attempt but I.. Ah John. I didn't get that good with my mouth without good reason." the sickness showed in Sherlocks eyes for a second and then John saw Sherlock slip on his mask of logic. He was loosing him. "I am a virgin John." the detective stated flatly. "I wish you could have been the first to.. be in my mouth."

Johns hand gripped Sherlocks hair tightly again.

"It is not your fault Sherlock."

"I know" was the logical reply. Okay, logical Sherlock now. Time to break the barriers again. John stroked Sherlocks face.

"We won't speak of this again unless you want to." John stated firmly. He shifted his weight and stood. Sherlock gazed up and suddenly he was a lost little boy again. He didn't want it to end like this. Was John repulsed by him now? By his emotions, damn his brain. Was John disgusted by what he had done in the past? Sherlock wanted John. God damn, everything else could go to hell if he could just have John. The doctor gazed down at the lost tear stained detective and he knew all he wanted was in front of him. John knew what to do to heal him. He held out his hand. Sherlocks eyes lit up with hope.

"Come on Sherlock. The fires gone out. The candles have gone out, I'm afraid I won't be shoving them up your arsehole tonight." the detective took a shocked, sharp breath and John saw a shudder of desire run through that thin tight body. Ah John and his straightforward manner. "but I'd like you to come to bed with me anyway" the doctor continued very softly. "So come on, take my hand. No boundaries anymore Sherlock. No secrets. You don't have to hide from me, you never needed to. I was hiding there too for a while, but then you and that clever brain of yours knew that anyway. But I won't hide anymore, if you won't." The detective tentatively took Johns hand and John pulled him up. His fingers entwining about Sherlocks. Sherlocks eyes met his, their faces close and he nodded.

"I'll try." John smiled and gently kissed the detectives cheek.

"Come on then. I still have a promise to keep."

John led the detectives up the stairs. Tonight he wanted this to end in his bedroom. Sherlock didn't object. As they entered Johns fresh, sparse room Sherlock glanced around curiously. He had been in here before, of course he had. Usually searching for cigarettes that John had hidden, or a spare pill or two that might be interesting to experiment with. Indeed he knew the content of Johns draws and closet and the trinkets and mementos he kept scattered about, they were all filed away in his file on John, but if he was honest he had never really looked. Not with real interest. He had only processed what was required. So now he looked. John let go of his hand and walked over to his bed. Pulling out the top draw of his bedside cabinet John produced some tea lights. Sherlock raised a brow but said nothing. John just smiled secretly. He lit about ten and placed them about the room as Sherlock considered Johns space. His bed was neat and Sherlock knew it smelled fresh of highland meadows or some such soapy scent, but he was sure when he got closer that would mix with the smell that was John. Sherlock wanted to smell the pillows as they lay beneath him, giving out their sweet perfume, as he writhed against them. He felt himself shudder pleasantly as he thought about that. He wanted John to make him writhe against them. What had John said? That tonight he would beg? Well maybe he would, but he wasn't going to give that up easily. The detective scanned the rest of the room. It was sparse. You could tell John was a solder, he packed light. On the large chest of draws beneath the window sat a photo. John with his platoon. Sherlock smiled. John missed those days sometimes, he knew, but he hoped that when John ran with him that he felt a little of what he had in the desert. He and his comrade beside him, blasting the world and not giving a damn about what it thought. Sherlock hoped John would run with him for a long time. Maybe forever?

Beside that picture was a picture of his sister in her healthier days and his parents. Beyond that there was very little that gave John Watson away. A few bottles of aftershave, an electric razor, his laptop and various leads for electrical items. Mostly this room was all about the bed.

John finished what he was doing and turned on a table lamp beside the bed, It's low light barely making a diffrence to the room. Brushing past the detective he shut his door and turned off the main light. He didn't shut the curtains, the moon was just right tonight, it shone down giving the slightly lost looking Sherlock a translucent quality. And then John just looked and took in the man stood in the moon and candle light. His angular beauty, his sharp pale eyes, his long limbs and hands and fingers that could do such wicked wicked things. Sherlocks eyes met Johns and John sighed. Sherlock blinked. Neither man spoke. Eventually John moved, he stalked around his prey, taking in every curve and line. That arse, to which Sherlocks trousers clung lovingly, the strong shoulders that jutted as if wings had been sawn from them and that long spine that showed all too clearly, even through clothing. John wanted to make that spine arch, those shoulders flex and that arse clench and undulate from deeply drawn out pleasures.

Sherlock turned his head slowly watching Johns progress. John was moving closer. His eyes sharp and dark and deep. Sherlock felt he could drown in those eyes forever. Johns posture was dominant and his muscles flexed with every step he took. Sherlock shivered. He could feel his heart quickening as the doctor drew slowly closer. Clever clever John. He knew what he was doing. Finally John stood before the detective, his chest almost against his. Sherlocks breathing was quickening. John was being maddeningly slow, but this was a challenge and Sherlock was not about to break. Relenting at last Johns hands reached up and touched Sherlocks face. He ran his fingers over the detectives cheeks slowly, tracing those sharp cheekbones, the edges of his curls. Sherlock whimpered. Johns eyes lit.

"Anything you want Sherlock?" John asked in a low whisper. John saw the response in the detectives eyes. Saw the wild animal leap and growl and rage to escape. Sherlocks jew clenched.

"You know what I want" he growled, trying to stand his ground. John looked amused at that, it maddened the detective. Johns hands stroked his neck and tangled in Sherlocks hair.

"Mmmm. And what was that?" Sherlocks jaw clenched further. His hands twitched. John was baiting him. He should be careful, very very careful. "Do you want me to kiss you Sherlock?" the detective growled but didn't answer, there was no way he was begging yet. "Thrust my tongue into your mouth, down your throat, would it remind you of my cock shoved down your throat like it was last night?" Sherlocks cock twitched. John was talking dirty and Sherlocks breathing was becoming shorter and shorter by the second. "Come on Sherlock.." John crooned "tell me what you want.." Johns hands ran down Sherlocks neck, slow and soft. His face moved closer. Sherlocks lip twitched. Johns breath was on his mouth. "You weren't this shy last night.." the doctor teased "when you ran your tongue around my mouth, ran it down my hard cock.. licked and sucked and fucking took my come down your beautiful throat." and that was it. The final straining thread of control snapped in Sherlock and the animal in him growled out deep and low and dark and then Sherlocks lips were on the doctors. His hands grasping the doctors head tightly, his fingers pulling on the sandy short hair. John allowed him to do what he wanted for a moment, but he wouldn't let the detective past his lips. Sherlocks bit at him and John, who still had a firm grip on those curls, pulled him to heel.

"Ah, ah, ah" he tutted. "not so fast." He stilled the detective, pulling him back by his hair and then looked deep into those feral eyes. God, the man was beautiful. Sherlocks hands left Johns hair and traced down his neck, one wrapping about the doctors throat, his fingers pressing threateningly in. John had been strangled before, oh so many times at the hands of the criminal classes, but this made his heart swell and his blood hiss against his veins. His airway was tight and he could feel every breath, it made him lightheaded.. but in such a good way. Sherlocks other hand was toying with the top of Johns shirt. One button popped. Johns breath caught. Very gently he reached in to kiss the detective softly. It didn't take much. John didn't think that Sherlock had even noticed that his lips had parted. The kiss was languid. John felt Sherlocks hand bruise his throat as he undid a second button. Johns tongue slipped back into that mouth tenderly. Sherlocks tongue lazily circled it. No, John was convinced he was not aware of his own submission. As button number three popped John took a firmer grip on the unruly detective, pulling at the curls. His mouth pushed harder and then Sherlock recognized his slip. He groaned deep into John.

"Dammit" he murmered into the doctors mouth. Johns free hand roamed over the one that still hand his throat. He pulled it off. It made it too awkward to access Sherlocks mouth properly. Taking his time John explored every part of that mouth, Sherlock was not allowed to access his dispute his efforts to do as much. Sherlocks hands were at Johns shoulders, rubbing warming circles, until John bit at his lip and then the claws came out. The detectives nails were into his shoulders hard and scraped colour through Johns shirt and down his back. John pulled back furiously his eyes ablaze. The pain from the scrapes shot to his groin like burning lightening bolts. Sherlock gazed back, his eyes reflecting the pain from his lip. In a fantastic move the detective violently canted his hips forwards so that his huge erection bumped and rubbed against Johns own. John moaned desperately, Sherlock looked immensely pleased with himself even as his own moan escaped him.

"Right" John said darkly. "That is it young man. I said you were in trouble and it's trouble you obviously want, so.." John grabbed Sherlock by his wrist, releasing his hair "I'll give you trouble" He dragged Sherlock to the bed. Sherlock tried twisting his wrist, but John had the grip of a hardened solder. It made Sherlock tremble as he realized that he could be completely helpless against this man. He tried again to resist, grabbing John by his free arm and attempting to twist him off, but Johns feet seemed rooted down in determination. The former army doctor simply flicked Sherlocks hand away and using his already full hand pushed both of Sherlocks wrists together and held them in an iron grip. Pushing the man back onto the bed John neatly flipped his legs up and was on top of his hips, pushing the detectives hands over his head.

"Now Sherlock" he said very softly "you are mine tonight. You want to be mine and I'm not going to fight you to prove that all night. I want to take my time." the detective trembled beneath the older man.

"John.." he began horsely.

"Sh sh sh.." John reached over Sherlock and into his tie draw. He pulled one out considered for a moment and then shrugged. Ah, it was only a tie. Leaning over the detective so that they were almost chest to chest John kissed him deeply. "Now.." he whispered "time to tame you I think." John swiftly and with a practiced hand looped the tie about Sherlocks wrists tightly. When he was sure they were secure he lashed the tie to the headboard. Sherlock wriggled and John grinned as he felt his erection against his own. He kissed the detective again as the other man tested his new bonds uncertainly. They were very secure.

John had never done this before. He had never really thought of himself as someone who wanted to tie another person up for pleasure, but now that he had he realized how amazing it could be. He took in the wriggling detective that was spread out before him.

Sherlocks body was burning. He wanted nothing more right now than to escape his bonds, pounce on his captor, strip him of his clothing and have him wriggling and begging in the same position. His arms and wrists strained against the tie, his hips thrust up against John, but John held him firmly with his strong thighs which flexed beautifully with the effort. Sherlocks eyes burned furiously at the doctor. Yes, he had thought of being dominated by John, at length he had to admit, but he'd wanted to strip John first. He'd wanted to tear Johns soul out and possess him and own him and make him his. Forever. Instead he was here, in a position he was unused to. That of being controlled and deep down, but as much as he tried to push the thought back, as much as he tried to stop his body from reacting so furiously, Sherlock knew that he was loving it. John was kissing him now, softly. It lulled him. His body shivered and softened as John kissed his way along Sherlocks jaw and down across the soft white skin of the detectives neck. As john nipped at his pulse Sherlock stopped struggling and felt his bones beginning to melt. He threw his neck back allowing John access and moaned out. Said Johns names. Johns looked up at him through his eyelashes.

"Better now?" he asked. Sherlock went to nod but managed to restrain the movement. Instead he growled. John just smiled. He finally had Sherlock over a barrel. Over a barrel.. hmmm.

"Right, some rules first." John said softly, sitting up a little but allowing one hand to cardle through Sherlocks thick curls soothingly. Sherlock blinked. "First of all, tonight is about you Sherlock. I know you feel vunerable and unsure, but I think deep down this is exactly what you were hoping for. Also I have a promise to keep and I don't think you'll be forgetting this in a hurry." Sherlock gave a wry grin and bucked slightly. John looked at him sternly and pushed his hips down further allowing friction to burn for a moment. Sherlock groaned. "I just want to say now that I'm new to this, just as you are. We don't have to rush, hence the position your in. But with that in mind I want a word for you to say if you get scared or are unsure and want to stop." Sherlock blinked again and then shook his head against Johns hand.

"I.. I won't need that." he replied. John rolled his eyes.

"It's just in case. I don't want you to feel bad or.."

"No John. I won't need that." Sherlock tried to lift up a little, wanted to use his hands to reassure the doctor, but that was useless. "John I trust you" he said with feeling "I trusted you from the moment I met you." Johns head tipped. "Honestly. Don't ask me why John. I've never trusted anyone.. ever, but with you I did in a heartbeat. I've thought about it John so many times and everything about you I trust implicitly. I know you would never hurt me.." the detective paused and grinned "unless I wanted you to." Johns eyes were wide and soft. He leaned in gently and captured Sherlocks lips. His hands played with Sherlocks tied ones as if he knew that Sherlock wanted to touch him.

"Okay." the doctor breathed against his lips. "but for my peace of mind Sherlock, 'discombobulate'." The detective frowned and John laughed softly as he pulled back to sit once again firmly against the detectives hips. "the safe word is discombobulate. Not even you could shout that word out during what I'm about to do to you without a damn good reason to. And now that subject is closed." Sherlock sighed impatiently. Safe word. Boring. Discombobulate, Sherlocks wicked mind began trying to think up ways to drop the word in at the most inappropriate moment.. and then his mind froze as Johns hands tugged suddenly at Sherlocks navy shirt and with one sharp movement tore it open. The detective gasped.

John took in the sight before him with the greatest of pleasure. He knew that Sherlock loved pushing the boundaries, was always looking for new things, things that were edgy and dark and ripped at you. He loved playing 'the game'. Well tonight John was going to give him a game to remember. He was going to indulge himself, indulge the fantasies he had hidden in a dark box in his head for so long, and he was going to indulge Sherlock with them. He had the feeling that the detective would not object. Well, not completely. He would beg, he might even scream before John was finished with him, but he was sure that discombobulation would not come into it. However John was glad that there was a way out because this was new. So new.

John undid the detectives shirt with practiced ease, his fingers brushing the skin as he did so beneath making Sherlock gasp. John peeled the shirt open and took in Sherlocks chest. It was white as snow, thin, John could see his ribs. John had seen Sherlocks chest before, indeed he had stitched him up, pulled shards of glass out of him, removed a leach that he had put there as an 'experiment' and couldn't remove, but he had never really studied it. That would have been weird, lets face it. John drank in the sight, there was a stab-wound on the left just beneath his rib cage. John wondered if he had suffered a punctured lung from it. Looking at the angle of the wound he would not be surprised. John had never really noticed how bad it was before. Just to the right near Sherlocks toned and dipped stomach there were several burns marks, maybe from a cigarette butt and to the left there was what looked like a brand that had gone very badly wrong. John frowned and then smiled as he felt the detectives eyes on him. Lifting his eyes he allowed his hands to move over Sherlocks collar bones. He drifted his fingers over and around the prominent bones and gently down to his chest. A butterfly touch. Sherlock whimpered. He strained up to those fingers trying to get more, but was denied. John then gently put his nails in play. Dragging them oh so softly, he circled both pink nipples and watched them pebble, Sherlocks skin goose-bump and prickle. John gave a small chuckle of satisfaction as he dipped his head to lick from Sherlocks waistband upward until he was at the soft curve of his throat, using just the tip of his tongue. The detectives body arched, reaching for the teasing wetness. But he couldn't get enough. John was too strong. His bonds held him too firmly. The detective whined pathetically.

"Your a sadist" he hissed at John through clenched teeth. John, whose teeth were gently nibbling at the detectives, neck looked up.

"I know." he said and felt Sherlocks hard cock twitch at the simplicity of the statement.

Sherlock was being driven out of his pretty little head. He realized that John had been playing with him all day. Like a cat toying with a mouse he had built the tension. Notched it up further and further by being so damned annoyingly calm and slow and patient. Before they had even got anywhere near the bedroom Sherlock had been boiling. Dammit all he'd been like this when at the police station! He had been pretty much been nursing an erection all day and John was the cause. Sherlock had also worryingly found that despite his best efforts he had lost a grip on his self control. His ability to shut down and switch off his bodies reactions was not working. It was like a circuit had burnt out and had been replaced with something far more dangerous. His entire being was wracked with desire. He could feel his muscles spasm and pulse and strain at each stupidly light touch. Damn John. And then John bit. He bit him hard, against the pulse point in his neck and Sherlock felt as though he had been given a great electrical shock. His body went ridged and still for one moment and then he was moaning, writhing and bucking up against John. John allowed him too. He had loosened his grip on the detectives hips and was indeed canting gently down with his own as he bit again. He bit and sucked and licked and ripped at Sherlock. Sucked the blood up painfully to the surface, marked the detective with his teeth and tongue and painful sucking. Marked him as his own. He continued for some time at his neck and shoulder and then down, marking all the way, down until he reached a nipple. Sherlocks body strained towards Johns mouth. He could feel his breath. The nipple hardened further, throbbed with need. Throbbed in time to the painful thrum of Sherlocks cock which in turn throbbed to the rhythm of his wild heart. And then John licked the nipple gently. Sherlock bucked wildly, grinding against John, drawing a moan out of the doctor. The moan hummed around the pebbled flesh as John sucked it into his hot mouth. Biting now, hard, Johns fingers found Sherlocks other nipple. He twisted and pinched it. Sherlocks moans notching up his movements threefold. He switched, biting at Sherlocks breast, marking that as his property, and then at his other abused teat. He realized that Sherlock was whimpering and grinding unashamedly at Johns crotch. John ran his fingers in unison down each side of Sherlock and then again with nails digging. Marking the pale skin with tracks and scratches.

"John.." Sherlocks voice was hoarse with need. "Oh God John..." John licked thoughtfully down Sherlocks chest to his stomach before looking up at his face. The detectives eyes were shut, his lips were parted in desire, there was a flush across his cheeks and neck, down onto his chest. His hair fell around his face like a frame, some sticking to him, wet with perspiration. Johns eyes scanned every inch of the detective. He was shocked in a way to see just how much he had marked the man already and he'd barely begun the full assault. Sherlocks neck was bruising, his chest and collar bone were red and had indentations from where John had bitten at the flesh. John had never imagined that he, the healer, would be able to inflict such wounds on someone so helpless, but then part of him was proud. Right now this man was his, he was causing Sherlock to make those beautiful noises, was making him cry his name, and tonight he would make him beg for what he wanted. John felt better about what he had done when he considered that Sherlock seemed driven utterly mad by it. Indeed John could feel the man pushing into him, willing him to bite harder, scratch harder, push the boundaries.

Sherlocks eyes cracked open then. They were blown with lust. He was subdued and wanting and wondering why John had paused. John smiled sweetly at him and shifted back away from Sherlocks subsonciously canting hips. Pressure was lost and Sherlock growled in disappointment. And then he felt Johns hand gently rubbing against his hard swollen cock. Sherlocks moan was enough, John thought, to turn every straight man gay. It was a long drawn out mewl of need and John found his own breathing became labored just from the sound. Without anymore messing about John suddenly popped Sherlocks fly. Sherlock froze for a fraction of a second and Johns hands fluttered against the zip that was barely holding the throbbing hardness within. Sherlock lifted his head slowly, his breath was short, his eyes met Johns. John thought that in his life he had never seen anything more sexy. Sherlocks tousled head straining upward to look at him with those beautiful lust filled pools of need. His arms straining above his head, his chest and neck flexing to keep his head steady to meet Johns gaze. And then the head nodded and John smiled and the zip came down. And John was drifting his fingers along the waistband, and over the bones of Sherlocks hips and brushing lightly at the warm curls the sat just beneath Sherlocks clenching stomach. John pulled at Sherlocks trousers and bought them down over his legs, lifting to pull them off and throw them away to the ground. And then he took in the sight in front of him again. Sherlock Holmes tied, helpless in nothing but black boxers. His bulge there made John swallow. He could tell even now that this was going to be quite something to behold.

"John.." Sherlock whispered horsely as Johns hands caressed his thighs and brushed his fingers over his still covered but already dripping erection. "Please..." it was said through clenched teeth, an annoyed whisper as Sherlock broke beneath the still fully dressed man above him. John smirked as his fingers forced their way under the elastic of Sherlocks waistband. Very slowly the doctor teased away the final layer that hid the prize he'd been waiting to see. Over the downy and well cared for triangle of hair and over and off. Sherlock was moaning, sighing as finally he was free, and John was staring, his mouth watered and he knew then that any protests his brain had left to give him had just been scattered to the winds. Because Oh God he wanted THAT.

Sherlocks cock curved proudly upward to his softly undulating belly. Like the rest of him it was pale, the blue veins that pumped hard beneath the skin throwing it into sharp relief. It was thick, but not as thick as Johns, but god was it long. It offset the rest of the detective almost perfectly in its proportions. The head was wet. Dripping with pre-cum, a dusky pink shade. It twitched as John appraised it and Sherlock whimpered out. John just smiled. He could wait. Beneath it sat a set of neat and hairless balls, Sherlock obviously like to keep himself tidy, on and down to the apex and then to the pale buttocks and the mystery within.

Sherlocks whined helplessly and strained against his bonds. He lifted his head again and he witnessed Johns appraisal of him. Sherlock had never been self-conscious. Not until now. Why was John taking so long? Was their something wrong with him? The detective blushed deeply.

"John... please John.." he groaned. Johns eyes lifted to meet his. He saw the uncertainty in the detectives eyes, saw the blush. He grinned. Carefully he moved to the side of the detective so that his head was level with him. John brushed his cheeks gently.

"Please Sherlock?" he asked. Sherlock bit his lip in frustration, even as his groin twitched again in anticipation of his own submission. He knew what was coming. He swallowed hard.

"John.. I need.. please.. I haven't done this before.. I don't know what all of this means." John just smiled.

"Exactly why your in this position. This way I can teach you without fear of interruption." the detective attempted to glare at John, but it's not an easy feat to glare when your so completely and utterly helpless. "So.. please what Sherlock?" Johns lips were now flush against the detectives ear, sending more bolts of pleasure to his twitching cock.

"Tell me. As long as your like this you can have anything..." John promised. Sherlock turned his head to look at John and John kissed him. the kiss deepened and Sherlock moaned. Johns hand was on his chest, caressing over his stomach and then fingers played in the soft curls beneath. Sherlocks hips bucked, he writhed as John kissed him, his fingers drifted around the place Sherlock wanted them to be most. And he knew then.

"Please.. please, God John please.. just please touch me..." the detective begged against Johns mouth. John smiled against his lips and then Johns fingers wrapped very gently around Sherlocks twitching length. And Sherlock was straining against his bonds, arching into the doctors gentle touch. He had never experienced anything like it before. His eyelids fluttered but he managed to hold the doctors gaze.

John drew back from the kiss and not missing a beat his slipped back between Sherlocks legs, pushing them gently apart. Sherlocks breath was coming in sharp shallow huffs. Not enough John, not enough. He knew something was building up slowly inside him. Was it that strange elusive chemical reaction which caused every nerve ending to stutter, to spark and ignite? The one that caused the body to stop every normal reaction, that pushed the body to spin out of control and caused you too loose all you meant for a few moments? Sherlock knew how it worked, he'd read about it, but he had never experienced it. How could anyone want to loose all control, push the body to it's furthest limits and then further still? It was not a logical thing. But now it was happening Sherlock wanted it. His body was begging for it. He moaned again, thrusting upwards into Johns palm.

John was touching Sherlock the only way he knew how. He was touching him the way he touched himself whilst slowly learning his wants, his rhythm, his kinks. John new from Sherlocks canting that he wanted more. Wanted John to be rougher. But John wanted to go deeper. Wanted to push at every nerve ending and make this glorious. His own cock was throbbing with need. He knew what he would like to do. Indeed it was something he had never done before, but what John really wanted was to hoist those long legs over his shoulders and fill that tight virgin hole with his throbbing needful cock. But not yet, now was not the time. Johns empty hand moved to Sherlocks balls. The detectives jolted and his eyes opened wide. John gently rolled the detectives hard tight balls in his hands, caressing with a new firmness, but it was still not enough.

"John..." Sherlock moaned "John.." the doctor smiled.

"What is it Sherlock? What do you want..?"

"Moooore.." the detective keened.

"More what Sherlock? Do you just want me to bring you off in my hand right now? Or do you want to go futher?" The detective moaned and John licked his lips, glancing down at the wet glistening and now purpling head of Sherlocks cock. "I seem to recall asking you earlier if you wanted me to swallow you down.. so.." John paused stopping all movement. "would you like me to swallow you down Sherlock?" John ran a finger through Sherlocks pre-cum and and then sucked it into his mouth. Sherlocks eyes widened, his cock twitched violently as John tasted the detective for the first time. He tasted of danger. Of deep dark chemical reactions, of salt and sugar and iron and smoke and ash and earth, John found he loved it and he wanted to taste more. To suck that beautiful cock into his mouth and let in shoot its sweetness deep into his throat. John moaned around his own finger.

"Yes John.. oh yes." Sherlock whispered, his wrists trying to free themselves, he wasn't even aware he was trying to escape anymore. John leant forward very slowly, his eyes fixed on Sherlocks. The tip of his tongue dragged a sharp line across the twitching head and Sherlocks head went back, his mouth letting out a silent scream of pleasure. But John wasn't done. Licking around the head he murmured.

"Sherlock.." Sherlock looked up, his eyes lidded. "I want to do something for you.." John was almost moaning himself. "would you like me to go inside? feel you from the inside?" The detective swallowed thickly, he felt his hole clench in anticipation.

"Yes.. God yes John." John swallowed and nodded.

"Okay.." he whispered. "I'll be gentle, but first I need to just..." John laughed, pulled back and quickly pulled at his shirt, almost ripping it away from his own body.

"Oh yes John." Sherlock said thickly "I want to see you. Damn it, if you hadn't tied me up I'd have ripped you to shreds by now." John grinned.

"My point is made" he giggled as he pulled his jeans off. Sherlocks eyes flew to Johns crotch as his boxers followed.

"Oh John. You are amazing." the detective groaned as he took in Johns hard dripping shaft. John quickly grabbed something from the boots bag that was laying on the floor and then he climbed back onto of the detective. His cock brushed Sherlocks and the other man canted up. Grinding hardness against hardness. John leaned in and kissed Sherlock hard, one hand tangling in his hair, the other bring their cocks together in his hand. The two of them continued like that for a few moments, John pressing cock against cock, allowing them to rub to slip and slid and grind together. Each mans mouth frantically moving, devouring. Sherlocks pulling furiously at the bedstead, his wrists hurting but only making it better. Eventually John pulled back, this couldn't go on. Letting go of both cocks he slid quickly down Sherlocks body, biting and kissing as he went. And then his lips were on Sherlocks cock. His thigh was between the other mans, forcing his legs apart wider than before. Sherlocks gave strangled cry as John slipped his lips over the head of his cock and slowly slowly sucked the detectives long hardness into his mouth. John was new to this. He tried to remember what felt good when others had done it to him. His ran his tongue down the underside and over the head. Sherlock bucked in his mouth, pushing forward, touching the back of Johns throat. John managed to control his gag reflex. He considered that this was something he would have to work on. Ah well, practice didn't seem like such a bad idea from where he was standing. He pulled back a little and allowed the panting detective to run to instinct, allowing himself to be used in the same way he had used Sherlock the night before. Quickly he reached down to where the bottle of lube lay on the bed. He flipped open the top with his fingers and quickly rubbed some onto his fingers. He then palmed Sherlocks balls, making the detective thrust harder. Drawing back to the swollen head of Sherlocks throbbing member and retaking control John sucked gently rubbing the detectives balls round in their sack. Then his slipped his fingers down, to rub at Sherlocks perineum with one wet finger. Sherlock moaned deeply, he instinctively spread his legs futher. Giving Sherlocks cock one last sensual lick John drew back and hooked on of Sherlocks lets up over his shoulder. And then John growled sensually in his throat. His finger slid down slowly as he took in the tight pink pucker between Sherlocks buttocks. It twitched erotically and Johns cocks twitched in response as he very gently lay one finger against it.

Sherlocks mouth came open in a beautiful circle as Johns finger touched his already twitching hole. The finger began circling gently, slowly. John muttered gently words.

"Shhh, it's okay Sherlock.. just let me.. mmm, you are so beautiful.. this is so beautiful. So tight. God Sherlock, you want this don't you.. you do don't you..?"Sherlock moaned as Johns finger rimmed him, relaxed the muscle, he could practically feel himself opening to John. Opening up his most secret place. Giving up everything to this man and yes he wanted it.

"Yessssss" he hissed, "yes John. I want this. Please John.. please." for the second time that night Sherlock found himself begging. Oh god, he'd do anything right now to keep this going. He wanted to be filled, wanted to be filled by John.

The tip of Johns finger entered him. Sherlock tightened instinctively.

"Hey.. hey it's okay. Just relax, just let me.. let me own you. Let me show you." Sherlock relaxed and John pushed slowly home. He rested there, feeling the tightness clenching around him and then he moved, remembering the video he'd seen earlier. He pulled out and pushed back. Sherlock arched, pushed towards that finger. "Oh you like that do you?" John crooned teasingly, pulling out and pushing in again. Sherlock moaned. "You like my finger in your tight little virgin hole do you..?" John panted, building up a steady rhythm. "Do you want more Sherlock.. Do you want me to make you scream?" Sherlocks insides were churning, he felt so alive.. so filthy, so dirty and oh so good. Johns finger caused a burning, filling sensation that felt utterly delicious and immoral. Johns words spread through his mind, letting it work it's own filthy magick and yes, oh yes, he wanted more.

"Yes John.. Yes.. more please John.. more. Want you.. want.." Sherlocks words were cut of on a cry as John withdrew his one finger to add another. He was less gently about it this time. He figured that Sherlock was past the point of that. Taking his own cock in hand he rubbed himself as he finger fucked Sherlocks arse, scissoring his fingers and then finally on a particularly deep thrust he hooked his fingers. Sherlock practically arched up off the bed. He saw stars, saw the universe and that universe was John and those deftly clever mind-shattering fingers he had. Sherlocks now almost black eyes met his lovers. John was wanking himself off in time to his now sharp thrusts. He was panting as much as Sherlock was, both men were slick with sweat.

"John.." Sherlock managed brokenly as the doctors fingers stroked the bundle of nerves inside him over and over again "John.. I want.."

"Wh..what do you want?" John asked, adding a third finger to the mix and causing Sherlocks mind to momentarily short circuit.

"I.." the detective moaned incoherently.

"What..?"

"I,,I want you in me John. All of you.." John slowed the pace and took in the detective. His hips were canting up of the bed, matching Johns fingers well, his arms were still trapped, his cock was purple and leaking copiously at the tip.

"I.. I was going to wait.. Sherlock.. too soon.. too much for you.." Sherlock stopped his movement for a moment an John practically saw his brain re-engage. He fixed John with a wanton look.

"Do you.." Sherlock panted "want to fuck me John..?" John nodded, his brow creased with need. "Can I persuade you..?" the detective continued.. John gave a small laugh

"maybe.." he whispered.

"Ok.. John.. don't stop with your fingers.. Fucking fuck my hole with your fingers John, and then put your beautiful cock inside it. Inside my virgin arse John.. I want you inside me. I want you to take me away from myself.. rip me apart John, take me apart, burn me.. I don't care. I just want you inside me now.." John was breathing all the heavier now, he had had to stop his ministrations on himself for fear of shooting his load right over Sherlocks stomach, and as the detectives filthy words crept around him he knew he would do exactly what he had been asked. He would do anything for this man right now, right or wrong. A wicked smile passed over his lips.

"I will.." John said "but first you beg me Sherlock. You beg me to fuck your dirty little hole. If you want it so badly I want to hear you beg for it.." Sherlocks eyes flashed defiance for a split second and then John curled his fingers inside him and he was down and done and writhing on the bed again.

"Oh yes.. yes.. please fuck me John. I am begging you.. I .. I want you.. to come inside me. Want you to burn me from the inside out.. Please John, please." John shut his eyes in triumph. He rolled his fingers once more against that sweet sweet spot and pulled his fingers out of Sherlock. Smiling now John quickly lubed up his cock, moaning as his own fingers rubbed the silky wetness about and then in one quick movement he shifted quickly up the bed. Reaching into the draw by his bed John drew something out. Sherlocks lust filled eyes shone with sudden confusion. John quickly kissed the detective to reassure him and then ran his fingers over his restrained wrists.

"You promise to behave?" he asked sternly and Sherlock understood. Oh God yes he wanted to touch John. Wanted to hold him as he lost his cherry. The detectives curls bounced as he nodded furiously.

"I promise." John gave Sherlocks innocent look one of mistrust and warning and using the scissors he'd taken from his draw he cut the detective free from his bonds. Sherlocks hands fell limply above his head. John took hold of his wrists with one hand and held him firmly. He moved over the detective, who had tensed a little now. John placed one long leg up onto his shoulder to gain a better angle and Sherlock felt Johns cock nudge at his hole. His cock twitched in response, his hole clenched and unclenched once and the detective swallowed hard.

"Your sure Sherlock?" John said, the same uncertainty he felt reflecting back in the still eyes that looked up at him.

"Yes." Sherlock whispered. John let go of Sherlocks wrists and the detective took a shaky grip on Johns arms.

"okay.." John breathed 'relax.." John pushed forward against the wet hole beneath him. He pushed very very gently murmuring all the time to the man beneath him. "Come on now.. just let go.. just relax and let me have you.. let me be inside you.. there.. yeah.." Johns cock penetrated the ring of almost relaxed but stupidly tight muscles. He stopped, allowed Sherlock to breathe, to adjust. Allowed himself to adjust. Sherlocks eyes met his and in a tender gesture that blew John away completely he reached up and touched Johns face with soft fingers. And then John realized that he'd wiped a tear away.

"Happy." John whispered. It was not a question, it was a statement. Sherlock, lost for speech choked as he was on sensation and rolling strange emotion, could only nod his understanding, it was a tear of joy, and then he smiled weakly. John pushed forward, taking the consulting detectives hole inch by inch. Sherlock made small whimpers and his hand caught in John hair. His eyes never left the doctors. Finally John found he was home. He rocked his hips gently. No thrusting yet, just a gentle warm canting.

Sherlock nearly died then. His heart stuttered his pulse rate shot up along with his temperature. He felt full. So damned full. Full to the brim with John. His John. Johns gentle rocking rubbed at the nerves buried deep within him. It warmed and relaxed him. He was aware that he was making little noises. He couldn't help it. It was all too amazing not to. Sherlock didn't care anymore. Here he could make whatever sounds he liked, say whatever he wanted and be something no one else would ever see because he knew he was safe with John. John took hold of Sherlocks angry cock then. He rubbed it just barely matching his rocking action. Sherlock grunted wantonly, pushing up harder against John.

John found himself utterly floored at how it all felt. He had never done this. No woman he had been with had been with him long enough for John to think about asking them, nor had John ever been with a woman who preferred back entry enough to ask him. As he had pushed past that tight ring of muscle he found that he was oddly glad that he had never had the opportunity. He was glad to have a first left, one that he could share with the man that rocked beneath him. He knew that Sherlock wasn't aware of it, but he would tell him. Let him know that John had given up a virginity in exchange for his. Sherlock was so tight around him, John could feel that muscle stretching around his throbbing flesh, could feel every twitch and spasm and god the heat there. The scent of Sherlocks arousal, his sweat and pheromones.. It drove John wild. He was finding it hard not to move. He wanted to pull back and slam forward into that tight hot hole, he wanted to fuck Sherlock through the bed but he held back. Took his sweet time, let that other man adjust to the sensations. John wondered what it must feel like, being on the other side. Maybe, if this lasted (oh God let it last), he would let Sherlock take his other virginity. Fairs fair, Sherlock might not be innocent anymore, but his cock had never been buried deep in anything as yet. The doctor felt Sherlock try and move against him harder, heard him grunt as his cock brushed his prostate with more force. John smiled. Taking hold of Sherlocks hips John gazed deeply into the eyes of the other man. Sherlock nodded, John could feel his heart beat quicken. Angling the detectives hips up a little John pulled back gently, scraping his cock against the soft tight walls that gripped him so lovingly. Sherlocks head went back and he moaned deeply. John thrust back in again, gently but not as slow. He hit the right spot and Sherlock screamed, his hips violently bucking up to meet his doctor. John began to stroke Sherlocks cock harder and began a gentle push and pull. Pulling out with deliberate slowness and then moving in faster.

Sherlock met Johns every thrust, his hands moved up to the doctors shoulders, nails digging into muscle. He was in a dark deep heaven. Oh God John, never ever stop. His brain had shorted some time ago. All he was now belonged to John and John alone. No one but John would ever see this. He knew he was screaming, moaning, calling out Johns name. It was like a prayer on his lips. John.

Sherlocks instinct was to thrust harder and John now seemed to give up on holding back and dug deeper. Sherlock heard himself scream again as Johns cock slammed into him over and over again. Stretching and splitting him in two. Johns hand never missed a beat as he roughly stroked Sherlocks trembling purple headed monster of a cock and Sherlock felt himself beginning to fall. He could feel a ball of energy building in his chest, his stomach, his arms and legs. Light blinking behind his eyes, blue twitching energy that curled down his spine and shot into his crotch.

"Oh God.. Oh God John.. Somethings happening.." the dark haired man moaned. John knew already, he could feel Sherlocks balls tightening against him, could feel the sparks of electricity running up the length of his cock and the tight dark hole that he was slamming into beginning to surge around him. John was ready to come, he was holding back, every muscles tense and coiled and ready to let go.

"O..open your eyes.. S.. Sherlock.." he managed to gasp. John wanted to see the detective undone, see the light in his eyes, watch him come. Sherlocks eyes were heavy but he did as he was told.

"John.." he moaned and John nearly lost it but managed to hold on. "I..I.."

"Let go love.." John groaned "Come for me Sherlock.. come for me.. come.." and Sherlock was lost. He eyes went wide and glassy but there never left his doctors as his body went utterly stiff and then shuddered. He came hard in Johns hand, the thick white spunk pumping violently over the doctors fist and his own stomach. His arsehole clenched tightly on Johns still thrusting cock and he screamed Johns name out. It was the last prompt the doctor needed and looking into those cold beautiful eyes John let go. He came hard inside the clenching undulating tube of flesh, emptied himself deep into Sherlocks arse moaning the mans name from dry lips like it was a prayer. After several shock-waves John collapsed onto of the panting wet Sherlock. His face against Sherlocks chest. He gave a chuckle and looked at the mess on Sherlocks stomach. Sweet Jesus, that was one hell of an orgasm. Sherlocks hand came up slowly and rested on Johns sweaty back. John glanced up. Sherlock watched him, a vague smile on his lips. Eventually after a few moments of just looking at one another Sherlock spoke.

"John." He murmered in a cracked voice. John smiled. Sherlock giggled. John was aware that his cock was shrinking to its normal size and slowly pulled out of the detective with a wet pop. Sherlock laughed then, and helped John to crawl up his body to curl next to him. They kissed and smiled and John placed his head on Sherlocks shoulder, his hand on his chest, another twisting a lock of hair carelessly. Both men were glowing.

"John that was.." Sherlock shut his head and giggled stupidly. John giggled back. "John.." Sherlock moaned dramatically "my brain has given up. You've fused it. Idiot." John pulled his hair with fond grumpiness.

"Yeah yeah.. and who begged me?"

"I never beg John." John snorted.

"Like hell.. 'Oh John.. please John. Please fuck me John. Please..'" Sherlock pinched one of John nipples suddenly and the doctors breath caught. He eyes met the detective now bright curious ones. THe detectives finger circled John nipple causing it to pebble.

"Definitely requires futher investigation" Sherlock said mischievously. John groaned.

"Tomorrow.." he said sleepily.

"You promise?" Sherlock said with innocence of a child asking for an ice cream. John rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I promise you can investigate my nipples tomorrow.." Sherlock giggled with glee.

"excellent." John pushed the detectives head down onto the pillow properly and then kissed him. Sherlock kissed him back tenderly, one hand resting on Johns hip while he pulled the covers over them both with his other. John groaned inwardly. Washing tomorrow. Washing and shower. He thought the bed-sheets were probably ruined anyway. Still.. it was worth it. With a sardonic smile he turned out the small dull lamp by the bed, letting the moon take over, as the last of the candles burnt themselves out. He sighed happily his head coming down on Sherlocks shoulder again contently. Silence fell. John listened to Sherlock breathe. Sleep was coming fast when Sherlock suddenly turned his head.

"Love" the detective said, his voice dark and low with a rumbling laugh hidden deep within it.

"what?" John replied groggily.

"Love. You called my love." John smiled against the detectives shoulder. He wasn't going to explain that one tonight, he wasn't sure he could to himself for that matter.

"Goodnight Sherlock." he murmured. Sherlock smiled to himself, his eyes fluttered shut as Johns body heat lulled him.

'Love'.. Definitely would require futher investigation...

Ahhh. So there we go. All frustration over.. til the next time. ;) Hoping to do some nice little one shot chapters within this framework of story now.. but we'll see. I might just get plot plot plot..

Have another darker piece lurking in my head that may come to life soon.

Hope you liked anyway. Just want to thank the other Johnlock writers on here, you make my days all the sweeter and make me want to write all the better. Johnlock forever.

xx


	7. Chapter 7

Taken a little while to get this out. This is the last part of the 'intro', will be moving the story on next time so we can have some established fun. Oh, but we do need Sherlock to break John in before that. ;)

Thank you to all who have faved and reviewed. I love you all. I love reviews.

Chapter 7 - Break you.

Sherlock smiled contentedly as the bright morning woke him. John had left the curtains he remembered and then without opening his eyes he knew exactly where he was. He gently inhaled through his nose, taking in the smell of John. The scents from the previous night, Johns hazy arousal mixing with his own with low undertones. The sheet against him was still slightly sticky and warm where it had taken up his body heat. Shifting ever so slightly, without opening his eyes Sherlock felt John warm against him, gloriously naked and still curled up into him. Sherlock liked that. He also liked the slight dull throb that echoed inside him reminding him of what he had done last night. No longer could he be called 'the virgin'. That conjured up a certain satisfaction. He could play off Mycrofts cruel jibes now subtly. Feeling John move a little and mumble an incoherent word Sherlock opened his eyes to the world as if it were the first time. In many ways it was, he mused, he felt different. Reborn in his own skin. He glowed. The first thing he saw was John, that was apt the detective felt for it was this man, this wonderful man, that had released him from his self made cocoon. He was glad that John had took the lead, he would have fumbled, something that Sherlock had never done before in his life and had no intention of ever doing if possible. He knew John had little experience himself but he had more than Sherlock and was a doctor. It was his job to know how all of 'it' worked and boy did he do a stirling job. Sherlock smiled as he watched Johns sleeping face. He looked so innocent a far cry from lashing the detective to the headboard in order to 'tame him'. John murmured to himself again and Sherlock strained his ears to hear... and then John moaned out quietly but sensually. Sherlock felt himself shiver with desire. Oh, what was John dreaming of? Very gently the detective cupped Johns jaw in his hand and ran his thumb over it and then over John slightly parted lips. The doctor sighed against his fingers and Sherlock became aware of something digging into his hip. His eyes widened. Oh God, John, his beautiful John, had and erection. Sherlocks own crotch twitched in response. Gently the detective lowered his lips to Johns ear, taking in Johns musky sleepy scent as he did so, and dragging his mouth over the sensitive shell he whispered in a low dark voice

"What are you dreaming of John?" John breathed out again and shifted towards Sherlocks mouth.

"Hmmm." he hummed sensually "Sherlock..." the detective froze as he heard his name. Was John dreaming of him? That made him want to.. OH.

Sherlocks hand slid down the bed to his own hip as he watched Johns dreaming. He had not done this in a long time, had never wanted to, had considered it a waste of time.. but as John moaned again Sherlocks hand wrapped curiously around his own growing hard-on.

"Oh John.." he breathed against the doctor. He felt John shift a little and then more pressure against his hip.

"mmm, Sherlock.." Sherlock began to move his hand gently on his own cock, he didn't want to come, not like this, but it was pleasant, different than before. Johns eyes fluttered but Sherlock didn't stop his gentle ministrations, he looked innocently into Johns eyes. John was still dreamy and smiled. Then his eyes widened as he took in the naked detective in his bed. Sherlock froze, was John not happy that he was here? Should he have left before morning? And then John smiled and remembered and a grin stretched his mouth. A little embarrassment there but Sherlock could live with that, it was after all early days.

"Mornin'" John mumbled, still sleepy, Sherlock smiled.

"Morning John" He replied softly, Johns cock was still rubbing his hip and Sherlock continued to cautiously rub his own growing erection, he wasn't sure if this would lead to anything but he continued hoping. Johns grin subsided suddenly and he blinked. Then he flushed hotly. Sherlock had to smile as John realized his predicament and leaned in to gently kiss the doctors lips increasing the pressure as he did so. John let out a still sleepy hot breathy moan against the detectives lips and then blushed further. "Problem?" Sherlock asked, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"I..Erm.." John shifted and Sherlock pretended he'd only just noticed.

"Oh.." he said in mock surprise. Tilting his head Sherlock began to nibble gently at the doctors neck. "Anything I can help you with doctor?" he asked.

'Liar' John thought as soon as the breathless "oh" left Sherlocks mouth. The most observant man in the universe hadn't noticed that he had quite an impressive hard-on poking him in the thigh? Oh come on! John was about to say as much as soon as his brain woke up enough.. and then Sherlock had started on his neck and had murmured those words and more.. and John was lost. His brain refused to work again and his bones melted. He shuddered delightfully beneath the gently sucking and biting that started on his neck and then edged lower to his collar bone. A tongue was drawn over the shape of it and downwards to worship Johns war-wound. John heard himself moaning beneath the onslaught, words were long since lost. Sherlock shifted beside the doctor and, whilst continuing his ministrations, ran a hand along Johns hip, drawing lazy circles on his thigh. Johns hips thrust and he felt Sherlock smile against his shoulder. The man was a tease though. He dragged his lips down and over Johns chest, avoiding the little nubs of desire which were quickly swelling and demanding his attention. John was at a loss as to say how the Sherlock had got so skilled at the art of teasing so fast. A man who had never had any such contact, who had been up until last night a virgin was driving him out of his mind with want. His tongue was so stupidly clever it was not, in Johns opinion, a fair state of affairs. John moaned wantonly beneath that clever tongue and Sherlock dipped beneath the covers to nuzzle at Johns stomach, his tongue creating hot wet patterns. He then found Johns tummy button. His tongue circled it slowly and John moaned at the gesture. He felt his other hole contract as he wondered how that tongue would feel doing the same thing elsewhere. Sherlocks did it again harder and the dipped further in. Johns hips shot forward but Sherlock was not going to be rushed in his cataloguing of all of Johns pressure points.

John moaned as the detectives tongue rimmed his tummy button, he had no idea that someone doing such a thing could cause such erotic delight. The images being thrown up behind his closed eyes were obscene and wonderful as he writhed in want. And then Sherlock suddenly started tongue fucking him and Johns cock swelled. Sherlocks fingers took hold of his nipples and manipulated them. Johns breath came in short huffs as he tried to get a hold on himself. He couldn't come just from this could he? Sherlock hadn't ever touched his cock yet. John pulled the covers back off Sherlocks covered head and gripped his curls. Sherlocks eyes met his as John watched his clever tongue with fascination. Sherlock grinned like a naughty schoolboy and edged back away from Johns belly to breathe in Johns arousal. Never breaking eye contact Sherlock bumped his nose against Johns erection. Johns head went back into the pillow. Sherlock shifted pulling the covers off himself and John, he shifted the doctor gently onto his back and then settled between the his thighs pushing them apart as he did so. John looked up at him them to see that the detective too was sporting a large erection. He wetted his lips and made a needful sound in the back of his throat. Sherlock smirked and ran both of his hands over Johns belly before putting his tongue against Johns erection. He gave John a long lick, from the head all the way down to his balls. Johns cock twitched violently and John made a keening sound. Sherlock gently licked at Johns balls whilst subtly shifting his thighs wider. Johns eyes fluttered closed. Oh God, this man was amazing. His mouth was so hot, so amazing. Sherlock sucked one of Johns balls into his mouth and John cried out in surprise and ecstasy. No one had ever done that to him.. ever and oh was it good. The detective swirled John around in his mouth employing a gentle sucking movement. He then did the same to Johns other testicle before taking them in both together.

"Oh my goooooodddd Sherlock.." John moaned in utter amazement. One of Sherlocks hands went to Johns cock which he milked gently, the other snuck down to stroke at Johns perineum softly. John bucked at the triple stimulation and then Sherlock began to hum softly around his sack. The sound vibrated through John making him shudder to his core. He barely noticed Sherlocks finger as it inched lower to rest against the doctors slightly twitching hole. He felt it when Sherlock began circling it slowly with his finger.

"Oh Sherlock" he breathed. Sherlock paused and gently allowed Johns balls to slide from his mouth. He continued his gentle circling and then looked up to catch Johns eye. As Sherlock paused Johns eyes had come softly open. His gaze met the other mans. Johns breathing hitched.

"Please..." he begged. Sherlock dipped his head again, he had all he needed. Still gently rimming John Sherlock allowed his tongue to touch Johns perineum. John whined and shut his eyes. Sherlock licked gently downwards until finally he replaced his finger with his tongue to lick circles that got smaller and smaller around Johns hole. As his tongue reached the centre he felt John contract involuntary against him. He paused again, allowing John to calm and breathed in the musky scent that lay between Johns buttocks. Oh God it made him want to do things, very bad things, but he wasn't going to rush this. All new, so new. John whined above him and Sherlocks hand found his. Fingers entwined as Sherlock began again licking Johns hole. Finally, cautiously he pushed the tip of his tongue against the muscle, he felt it go, felt Johns exhale, the squeeze on his fingers and Johns groan of desire.

"Oh God yes Sherlock.. God yes." John couldn't quite believe how good it all felt, Sherlocks hot tongue moving slowly against him, inside him. It was all so good.

Sherlock began fucking Johns hole harder with his tongue. He could barely believe how much this was turning him on much. He.. wasn't sure how he would feel. He wasn't sure it would be his thing when he started but as soon as he smelt John every doubt melted away. It was all so John. The taste, the way his hole twitched against Sherlocks intrusion. It was glorious. He continued gently pumping Johns cock allowing his thrusting tongue to match his hands rhythm. He could feel Johns orgasm beginning to build. Carefully pulling his tongue back and smiling at the disappointed grunt that escaped the doctors lips he lay a finger against Johns wet hole. Looking up again he asked.

"John?" John opened his eyes. They were heavy and dilated with need.

"Please.. Yes.. Do it." he panted before closing his eyes again in rapture to sensation. Sherlock shifted so that he could watch John properly and ran his finger round and round the tight pucker. He heard John beg as he increased the speed he was wanking him off at and Sherlock decided that was the moment. Slowly, gently he wormed his finger inside Johns hole, sliding past the muscle into the gripping chute behind it. He watching in fascination as Johns hole gripped at him, his finger stretching it, the muscle contracting around the offending digit. Johns moaning gave him confidence that his friend was indeed enjoying the sensation and he pulled out and then thrust back in. John's hips thrust to meet him and Sherlock, remembering Johns trick, crooked his finger. John screamed out his desire and Sherlock began to bang his hole harder with his finger, wanking Johns cock as he did so. John felt so good inside. Swirling around him, tightening against him. God, he wanted to fuck this man properly sometime.

"Sher.. Sherlock.." John moaned.

"Yes John?" the detective answered a little concerned at first.

"A.. Another.."

"Another what.. Oh.." Sherlock pulled out his finger and quickly sucked it along with another to get them wet, he tasted John, the inside of John, on him. It made him shudder. Oh goodness, when had he got so.. needy?

As two fingers entered John he wailed and bucked, thrusting against them madly, his cock meeting Sherlocks hand with perfect friction. It was all too good. Sherlock crooked both fingers deep inside John and John knew he was about to go as they stroked his prostate over and over.

"Oh.. my.. God.." John was thrashing, his hips pumping to meet the detectives violent thrusts and tugs. And then the world went white, stars burst behind Johns eyes and he was coming hard against Sherlocks fingers. Spunk pumping over the detectives hand to splatter on the doctors abs and chest.

Sherlocks watched Johns face as he cried out Sherlocks name. God, his doctor was so beautiful like this, spread out and coming hard because of him. For him. Sherlocks breath came out in hard gasps as he watched his.. lover, felt his lover. When John had stopped shaking the detective gently removed himself from him and then curled up beside the doctor, licking away the spilt seed. Johns eyes opened, drugged on endorphins and he blinked in amazement as Sherlock licked and sucked greedily at the warm milky liquid. Sherlock raised his eyes to Johns and the doctor grinned stupidly.

"You are.. amazing." he concluded as Sherlock licked away the last of the seed on his chest and was now gently cleaning any traces from his cock. Sherlock gave him a slightly coy look then shuffled up the bed to lay his head beside the doctors. The kiss they shared was long and gentle and warm.

"As are you." the detective replied lazily. John shifted his arm to Sherlocks stomach and ran his fingers around over the muscles there. Sherlock was still sporting an impressive erection. It twitched as Johns hand wandered lower. John gave a rye smile.

"So.. coffee?" he asked teasingly. Sherlock growled very quietly.

"Love some" he replied gruffly. Johns fingers traced the nest of hair avoiding Sherlocks cock.

"Milk?" he asked.

"black, two sugars.. you know that.. Joh.." John. The word began but was cut off as Johns hand wrapped around Sherlocks cock and all that was heard was a breathless sound.

"hmmm.." John went on lazily, his hand now stroking gently as he turned to watch the detectives face. "I know.. Do you want toast.." Sherlock made an incoherent sound as John pinched a nipple between thumb and finger. "I see.." the doctor murmured. "So.. jam.. am I right? You like Jam don't you Sherlock?" John twisted his hand at the base of the detectives cock and Sherlock issued an earth shattering moan of need, his eyes closing tightly, his hips beginning to thrust. John shifted so that he was kneeling beside the detectives hip, he continued his light twisting. "I bet you would like jam even better if I spread it on me.. or better still on you.." John breathed the words across the detectives cock "would you like that love?" That word again. "me licking jam off your beautiful skin, off your rosy little nipples and downwards. Do you want me to suck you..? John began twisting the base of that twitching cock a little harder "well.. do you?" Sherlocks eyes opened and he met Johns gaze. He groaned.

"Yes... Yes fuck John. Yes." John smiled, kissed the head of Sherlocks erection and then in one movement swallowed him down as far as he could. Sherlock gasped. Every muscle stood as out as his body adjusted to the sudden sensation but John was not going to be patient. He sucked hard, allowing his lips to embrace Sherlock over and over. Sherlock wailed at the friction that assailed his senses, he could feel himself hitting the back of Johns throat. His hands became fists as he tried his best to hold on to the feeling. He felt Johns finger against his cock as John sucked that along side him and then that finger was against his spasming and still sore hole.

"Oh God.. Oh God John.." John circled Sherlocks ring for a few turns and then pushed. Heat joined the other sensations as Sherlocks already sore muscle gave and John slipped inside. That finger fucked him hard as Sherlock found himself fucking Johns mouth. Another digit was pushed through and John began stroking the nerve endings with a practiced precision. Sherlock was gasping, sweating, shouting out Johns name as wetness and heat and twisting pressure made him loose all sense. All there was was John. And then the sparks came and the detectives screamed. His eyes jerked open and all he could see were Johns looking into him, seeing him undone and that made it all the better.

It took a while for Sherlock to come down, when he did he found himself sprawled across the bed. He felt practically boneless. John had made coffee, God, how long had he been out of his head for? John curled up beside him and smiled. He sipped his coffee.

"You came down my throat you know." he said with quiet pride. Sherlock snorted.

"And did you enjoy that?" he asked, wriggling up a little and taking Johns free hand whist taking his own coffee from the bedside table.

"Hmmm." John smiled "you obviously did. I thought I'd broken you at first." Sherlock barked out a laugh.

"It takes more than that John" he purred seductively.

"And how would you know.." John shot back, but a promise underlined the words. Sherlock chuckled.

"You called me love again you know." John just smiled.

"I know."

"So.." the detectives stretched his back "should I call Lestrade and get us a case then.. or did you have other plans?" John turned his face up to his lovers and grimaced. Taking the coffee from the detective firmly and abandoning his own John gripped Sherlocks wrists and rolled him onto his back. Settling down on the his chest he gazed at the detective intently.

"Other plans.." he murmured "like a long slow shower and a long slow breakfast.."

"..and after than?" Sherlock asked, all innocence

"I might try and see what it takes to break you.." Sherlock groaned. Lestrade could wait.

Next time we will move forward and Sherlock is sooooo going to shag the hell out of John. Much begging ahead.

Later all. xx


	8. Chapter 8

Oh dear. So into writing this my coffees gone cold.. Better make another.

Thank you for all the lovely comments and faves on this story.

This took a little while as I've been writing for a competition. Warnings ahead. Hot M/M sex, buggering, shagging, sex toys, filthy language, cock sucking and handcuffs. Enjoy. ;)

Chapter 8 - Payback.

Waking up against Sherlock John was discovering to be one of life's great pleasures. To feel the detective curled around his body protectively gave John the warmest feeling.

Waking up against him and being sucked off by him a luxury he had never seen himself as requiring but now couldn't see himself ever giving up.

A week had passed since that first encounter and life had remained pretty much the same at 221B. That mad weekend had passed far too fast, a fact that annoyed Sherlock greatly. He was even more annoyed when John told him that he had to work on the monday. So annoyed in fact that when John slipped from his bed quietly that morning to shower Sherlock had followed him and slipped quietly under the hot water with him. John tried to protest but words failed him as Sherlock pushed him up against the cold tiles and ground shamelessly against him, kissing him deeply and wantonly. John could still feel the stinging kisses of the hot shower as Sherlocks mouth had wrapped around his shamefully large erection.

Sarah had smiled to herself when she had seen him that day. His skin still blushing from the heat, his eyes sparkling in a way that said the wonderful had just happened and he couldn't quite believe it himself yet.

And now it was Thursday. Sherlock had been distracted some of the week by a case he cited as dull, mostly because it was in cyberspace and no actual running or fighting was required, but it had him almost as baffled as the police. John knew on the Thursday morning from the annoyed tones from the living room and the fact that Sherlock had left the doctors bed that the case was still dragging on. He groaned and pulled himself up from the nice warm covers. They smelt of Sherlock now. John smiled a little. He liked that. Pulling on a dressing gown he sauntered down the stairs to make coffee.

Sherlock was bounding around the room distractedly and accusing Lestrade of withholding evidence. John got from Lestrades tone on the other end that he was attempting to beg Sherlocks forgiveness without actually saying it. It took Sherlock a moment to see John, but as he turned violently on his heal he paused in his rant to Lestrade and looked at the doctor in the scruffy dressing gown and mussed up hair with a strange affection. John blushed beneath his gaze. Damn, the man always looked so good, what on earth was it he saw in John? John could hear Lestrade taking advantage of the silence and could hear him talking ten to the dozen on the phone. Sherlock gave John a look that said 'he's and idiot' and was across the room, holding the phone away from his ear a little as he did so.

The detective caressed Johns hair and then dipped his head catching Johns lips with his own. John gasped and Sherlock pressed home with his tongue allowing it to entwine with the doctors. On the phone Lestrade drawled on and Sherlock playfully pinched one of Johns nipples. The doctor found he couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his mouth and ran into Sherlocks and he felt the detective smile against him as the phone-line went suddenly silent.

"Erm.. Sherlock.. you okay..?" came the tinny sound of Greg's voice. Sherlock drew back from John's lips and gave him a suggestive wink.

"I'll be done with this by tonight.." he whispered close to the doctors ear "..and I Doctor Watson will be wanting to celebrate." John shivered at the words. Sherlock bit gently at the doctors ear, warming his neck with his breath and bringing forth another half suppressed groan, before returning to pacing.

"What's that?" he said impatiently "Oh.. John got his foot caught in the fridge.." he shot John a smirk over his shoulder "Now don't waste my time with trivia..."

John had been hoping for an early night, but surgery was at capacity. It seemed as though all of London had the flu and John Watson was the one to cure them. When he finally checked his phone at 6pm he groaned when he saw he had five texts from Sherlock.

'Case closed. Come home. SH.'

'Where are you? SH'

'Getting food. Come home. SH'

'John, I need you. SH'

'It's 5.30, you're never this late. Where are you? SH'

Shit. Now he was worrying. John quickly typed a reply and began packing up.

'Crap day. Home soon. Hungry. JW.'

It took thirty seconds for the detective to reply.

'Have a surprise for you. SH.'

John smiled as he read it. That could mean anything from a disemboweled badger on the kitchen table to.. well Sherlock laying naked on the kitchen table. John felt his breath catch at the thought and smiled at he quickly typed.

'Not another dead animal you want me to look at? JW'

A few minutes silence ensued as John quickly packed up his stuff and shut down his computer. John did begin to wonder if he had guessed on the right side of 'surprise' when his phone beeped again.

'No. You'll like it. I want to celebrate. SH.'

John grinned and flushed as he remembered the words the detective had whispered to him that morning and exited his office as swiftly as he could. Already he could feel his blood beginning to re-direct and tried to think of things other than Sherlock naked and waiting to 'celebrate'.

Sarah caught him on the way out.

"well done today John." she smiled. John paused hoping this conversation wouldn't cut too far into his evening.

"You too." Sarah gave a small grin.

"In a hurry then John or do you fancy a drink..?" John blinked.

"I uh.. Sherlock um.." the grin on Sarah's face widened in-perceptively.

"What is tonight then John? Chasing the chinese mafia..? Saving a damsel in distress..?" Her eyes laughed as she swept the doctor over with them.

".. Um.. no. Just a quiet evening in.." John caught his words.

"With Sherlock?" Sarah giggled. John nodded, the flush he was trying to suppress breaking through. Dammit. "well then John.." the smile never left Sarah's eyes "you'd better run along."

"O..okay then.. Night Sarah.." John turned to go.

"Just one thing John." Trying not to sigh the doctor turned back to his ex, "You're happy?" John couldn't keep the light that shone from him now from slipping out. He grinned like an idiot.

"Yes." Sarah turned briefly and pulled out a draw in the reception desk. She took a small bag out and smiled. She held it out. John frowned and crossed to where Sarah now leaned.

"What this?" Sarah gave a him a wry look a passed the bag across. A small box inside a a medical bag. John opened the bag curiously. He blinked twice as he removed it's content.

"Uh.. Sarah.. this is.." John blushed to his roots.

"John, I'm a doctor, this is my practice, I get samples all the time. I figure that this will be more use to you than to me.."

"Sarah.. me and.." Sarah shook her head and smiled again.

"John, just take it. No questions, nothing to be ashamed of.. but.." Sarah's hand touched Johns gently "if you ever need to talk I'm here. Be happy John." Johns eyes closed as he gathered himself and then he quickly shoved the box back in the bag and into his pocket. Leaning forward he placed a tender kiss on Sarah's forehead.

"Thanks." he murmured. Sarah grinned.

"Go home John. I may not understand him but you do and that's all that matters." John nodded. "Go on." giving Sarah's hand a quick squeeze John turned and Sarah smiled as she watched the spring in his step.

Sherlock was pacing. Damn John for being late. He needed him. Wanted him. And to top it off he had a very special surprise for him. Sherlock grinned to himself. Tonight the tables would be turned. Finally just after 6.30 he heard Johns steps outside and heard his key in the door. Quickly dimming the lights so that only the fire and candles lit the warm room, Sherlock threw himself on the sofa and struck a dramatic overly moody pose. Johns footfall neared as he climbed the stairs and the door swung open.

The first thing that assailed John was the smell. Lasagna if he wasn't very much mistaken and boy was he hungry. He patted his pocket as he entered the living room and gave a sly grin and then took in the scene Sherlock was playing out for him.

The detectives head was thrown back against the cushions of the sofa. His long neck curving invitingly. One hand was drawn up over across his eyes in a typically dramatic gesture of despair. He was wearing that shirt. The shirt John always thought of as the purple shirt of sex and it was undone to indecent levels. The rest of it strained against Sherlocks prone upper body, the sleeves were rolled up and tension showed in his bare arms. His feet were bare and and black jeans clung lovingly to the detectives calves and thighs and hips. John tried not to look at the place he was thinking of most, but he couldn't help it. He could see the curves beneath the tight material.

"Dinners probably burnt by now John" the detective intoned in a suitably dark voice. John shuddered.

"I..I sorry Sherlock. Works been.." the dark haired man dropped his hand limply by his side and raised his head to look at the doctor. Danger flashed in those pale eyes. "I..it smells fine Sherlock." Sherlock was up and off the sofa before John had time to react. He stalked over to John with deliberate movements. His hips.. Oh God his hips. His hair fell like a halo around his pale face and a predatory smirk appeared.

"I cooked for you John.." that voice, low and seductive. John blinked and gulped.

"Y..you cooked?" John couldn't keep the surprise from his voice and then Sherlock was almost against him.

"I did." John met the detectives gaze and knew that he was in for one hell of a night. The man oozed sex, he smelt of sex and John felt his groin give a strong twitch of want. Sherlock smiled then. He bent and in one movement grabbed Johns hair and pulled his head back. John groaned deep in his throat as Sherlock gave his neck a long animalistic lick. He pulled Johns head again so that their eyes were level. Nipping just once at Johns bottom lip he spelt out the words slowly.

" I. Want. You. John." John went to move but the strong arm that held him was immovable. Sherlock smiled slightly "But.." he breathed "dinner first and then.. I am going to have you John. Do you want that?" Johns eyes widened and he felt all of his blood redirect straight to his cock.

"Oh God yes." was all the doctor could manage. Sherlock released him and then kissed him briefly but tenderly running one finger down over Johns crotch. He raised a brow.

"Oh, you're in so much trouble" he whispered before moving away suddenly. John bit his lip. Fucking tease. "Sit down John" the detective called now in a far more normal and cheery voice "I made lasagna." John sighed and moved to his chair that was sat before the roaring fire. That man would be the death of him. Sherlock bought in his dinner and John grinned.

"Are you sure this is safe to eat?" he teased "I mean you didn't get the salt mixed up with rat poison or something." Sherlock gave him a look of mock hurt and then growled,

"You'll regret that later John." He disappeared again leaving John hanging on his words. He returned a few moments later with his own, a bottle of very good red wine and two glasses. He poured the wine and then settled himself across the sofa again. He raised a brow "well?" he asked. John chuckled and the detective rolled his eyes.

"Alright, I'll eat it first to prove to you it's fine." He cut some of the meat and pasta and chewed it with mock thoughtfulness. That was enough for John and he joined his friend, tucking in gladly. It was amazing, not only was Sherlock some kind of demigod but he could cook too.

"So how was the case?' the doctor asked between chewing. The detectives eyes brightened.

"Oh, solved John. Dull but solved. Some kind of online cult, the people killed themselves but were persuaded to through blackmail.." John listened contently for sometime to Sherlocks low baritone until finally something else slipped into his voice. "I.. got something useful off Lestrade.. it was.." the detective paused and took a thoughtful sip of wine "a gift for me providing them with the answer" Johns eyes met the detectives and his saw the mischief flashing there. He grinned.

"Is this the surprise you not so subtly mentioned?' Sherlocks grin was one of pure evil.

"Yes." John raised a curious eyebrow and put his empty plate on top of Sherlocks own cleared one. Taking a sip of wine the doctor studied his companion with a twinkle.

"Well, I have a surprise for you too." he countered. It was Sherlocks turn to look curious. His eyes swept John and he noted the small box that was now stored safely in the doctors right-hand pocket. He then downed his wine and stood. Grasping each side of Johns chair he leaned in slowly. John tried not to let the glass of wine he was still holding spill. He swallowed as the animal leapt into Sherlocks stormy eyes.

"My surprise is in the bedroom John." he rumbled low and dark "Yours is in your pocket.. would you like to show me?" John shook his head cooly. Sherlocks head tipped. "Really?" taking Johns almost finished glass the detective quickly downed what was left and then haphazardly crashed it onto the table behind him. He ran his fingers over Johns face and lips. "Come on John" he whispered "show me.." and then Johns hands were in his hair tugging at it hard, pulling the detective in for a bruising passionate kiss. Sherlock growled and ripped himself back. The two men were panting hard. Placing a knee either side of the doctors hips Sherlock straggled Johns lap. Johns hips tilted up by instinct and the detective ground down in retaliation. And then they were kissing again, Sherlock clawing Johns shirt off, ripping the buttons free and scattering them over the wooden floor and rug.

"You're mine John." the detective growled into the doctors mouth "tonight I make you mine"

As Sherlock slid off Johns lap he heard the doctor make a disappointed keening sound in his throat. Quickly Sherlock grabbed John by his ruined shirt and wrist and pulled him unceremoniously out of his chair. The doctor stumbled but the detective held him safe and dragged him towards his room.

"Sh.. Sherlock.." John panted "I.. have something for you.." the detective grinned and swung John through the door into his room.

"Yes" Sherlock purred, pinning John against the wall and fumbling in his pocket in order to get the gift out. His eyes widened when he saw what it was. The neat box appeared to give nothing away but Sherlock knew. He tugged the lined box open keeping his doctor in order with a well timed thrust of his hips. When his eyes met with the contents of the box the detective groaned with desire. Inside the box lay a beautiful white prostate massager. His eyes met Johns again, the smile never leaving those lips.

"Oh John.." he growled "You know how to treat a man." Quickly running a finger over the full length and girth of the massager he grinned. Throwing it onto the bed that lay about a meter away the detective began removing the doctors clothes in short order. His hands were at Johns fly, the remains of his shirt were disposed off and shoes were skillfully toed off, the doctor was stripped in record time. Johns hands went to Sherlocks shirt but they were stilled. "First things first John.. I have a gift for you remember." the detective pinned the doctors hands together, using only one of his, lifting them over the shorter mans head and pressing them into the wall, he then reached into his own pocket. John blinked as the present caught the light and gleamed blindingly.. and then he saw. The handcuffs sparkled out their promise.

"Whe.." John began. Sherlock stopped him.

"Lestrade, he owes me big time." seeing Johns face the detective added "Don't worry, I didn't say anything, he thinks there for the 'criminal classes'" John shook his head and laughed, he then took and deep and unsteady breath.

"And I'm guessing that they are for.." he gulped "me?" Sherlock smiled tenderly, opening the cuffs and slipping one on Johns wrist.

"For tonight" he replied steadily as the clasp clicked shut with a solid clink and John felt the cold metal settle about his wrist. Pulling John gently now the detective led him to the bed. "Come on John on the bed." John obeyed with trembling legs. Sherlock quickly hooked the cuffs around the headboard and settled the other open cuff about Johns free wrist. He then knelt for a moment beside the doctor looking deeply into those dark blue eyes.

"You do trust me don't you John?" he asked, all playfulness dropped, concern clouding his clear eyes. John smiled a shaky smile.

"With my life" he breathed and he felt the cuff snap shut snug against his wrist. Sherlock drew back with a faint smile of satisfaction and stood to take in the sight of his naked and helpless Doctor Watson. John wriggled a little and as any solder would tested his bonds. Damn, he must remember not to tug to hard on these, they would chaff him raw if he wasn't careful. However John found that although the situation was initially slightly weird that his groin was throbbing in response to his bondage. Sherlocks hungry gaze only served to make the throb almost painful and he moaned. Sherlock raised a brow.

"Keen are we doctor?" he asked, dipping his head to nip at Johns collarbone and neck. John could only nod faintly in response and then shudder when Sherlock laughed low and with devious intent. "I seem to recall John Watson that you kept me waiting when I was in this position, turn about is only fair." John groaned. He was in for a long and probably hazy night.

John cried out, a ragged drawn out sound, as Sherlocks mouth descended on his cock. The detective had without Johns knowledge purchased a cock ring. His eyes had glittered wickedly as he had pulled it from his draw and held it up for the trapped doctor to see. Johns body was already damp with sweat and his chest was bruised from where the detective had bit and sucked and marked him. He had marks so why shouldn't John? John did not seem to mind, he had reached the place in his brain where pleasure and pain mingle and therefore become more intense, more glorious. He half wondered to himself through his lust filled fog if a woman could ever be capable of inflicting so much exquisite pain, he also had a feeling that they were only just scratching the surface. Johns cock was almost purple and Sherlock was concerned he wouldn't last through everything he wanted to put him through unless measures were taken and so he slipped the ring on and tightened it. Johns body had gone very stiff then, his hips had canted up, his breathing came up once sharply and then he seemed to get hold of himself and his eyes met Sherlocks and he calmed. Sherlock stroked his damp hair then gently and kissed him sweetly, twisting a nipple as he did so.

"Oh.. Sherlock.." John moaned, a small frown appearing on his face. Why was the detective still dressed?

"What do you want John?" the detective asked.

"I.. I want to see you.. I want to see you're body, you're skin, you're cock. I want to see how much you want me." John gasped out. Sherlock kissed John again and drew away. He stretched languidly, looking down on Johns prone and utterly beautiful form. He could get used to doing this.

"You want me to strip for you?" the detective asked stalking around the bed. John had bitten his lip and nodded.

"please.." John wasn't begging but it sounded almost as if he were and Sherlock had relented. He had very slowly pulled away the buttons of his shirt and it skimmed down off his shoulders and back. John swallowed hard. Slipping his jeans down below his hips, the detective had stroked the curves of his own stomach, pinched his own nipples and caressed his prominent bony hips. John was on the edge of begging when Sherlocks hand went to his fly and popped the buttons one by one. The detective had then wriggled out of the clinging jeans and stood only in his shorts. His erection was plain to see, it bulged and John's ringed cock twitched. Sauntering over the detective had smiled.

"Better doctor..?" he had asked his eyes on Johns cock.

"I.. yes.. um.." John began but stopped as Sherlock sat with a plunk between Johns thighs and wrapped his lips around the purple head of his cock.

Sherlock sucked John for a long time. Knowing the doctor was now controlled utterly was a huge turn on. Sherlock could do pretty much anything he wanted and he was fairly sure that John would not be able to come. The detective loved the taste of John in his mouth, he loved the moans, the little keening noises, the begging that the doctor wasn't even aware he was doing. Oh yes, Sherlock could drive John to distraction like this. But he had other plans. His fingers edged down between Johns legs and the doctor spread his thighs wider. Sherlocks cock gave a throb of approval, John wanted this. Very slowly Sherlock began running his finger over and around Johns hole. He felt the doctor tug on his restraints already trying to get a grip on the detectives digits. Sherlocks pulled his mouth off the doctors cock and met the those blue eyes with his. He gave John a quizzical look.

"Is this what you want John?" he asked, trying to keep the tremble from his voice. John nodded, biting his lip. "Fuck John.. I want you." Sherlock moaned.

The detective reached into his draw and drew out the heated lube. Johns eyes followed lazily. Sherlock poured some lube onto his fingers and again began rimming the outside of Johns hole. It twitched beneath his ministrations and suddenly John arched off the bed as the heat kicked in.

"Fuuuuucccck.. Sherlock.." John wailed. Sherlock took that as invitation and pressed home with one finger, sliding past the twitching heated muscle to the velvet furnace that burned inside. John was arching and then he was thrusting. Sherlocks fingers was the last straw and his self control snapped. He pushed himself down further onto the intruding digit muttering obscenities as he did so. Sherlocks felt his cock twitch and his own self control tested. It took everything he had not to just pull out his finger and push something far bigger inside the doctor then and there, but as he controlled his breathing and added a second digit the detective managed to hang on to himself. His eyes fell on the massager that lay on the bed beside John. Part of him wanted very much to push the toy into Johns hole and fuck him senseless with it, but the greater urge to fuck him senseless with his cock won out. Sherlock picked up the toy and looked at it while still thrusting two fingers up Johns trembling arse. He grinned. Adding one last finger Sherlock slowed his movements and gently stroked Johns stomach to bring him down from his almost but suppressed orgasm. The thought did cross the detectives mind that maybe John had in fact had a dry orgasm.. This would require further investigation, but for now the detective pulled out. John whimpered as Sherlocks fingers left him, his arse was hot and the lube had only increased the incredible feelings inside him.

"S..Sherlock.. please.." he moaned as Sherlock got off the bed. Sherlock leaned over to him and kissed his mouth passionately.

"I think John.. you'll like this. Just.. just wait a few more moments and I'll give you what you want.. What was that John?"John blinked his brain trying to catch up.

"Wh..wha..?"

"What do you want me to do to you doctor..?" The detective spelt out in a low and deeply sexual voice. John moaned,

"Oh God.. I want you inside me.."

"What part of me..?" John moaned again when he saw that Sherlock had wriggled free of his shorts and now stood proud, his erection huge and dripping and ready. Johns breath came in gasps.

"I..I want you fuck me.. with.." Johns eyes dropped meaningfully to Sherlocks cock. Sherlock slipped back on the bed and began without so much of a word to spread lube on himself and on the massager.

"Fuck you with what John.." the detective twinkled mischievously, crooking one leg up on the bed so that the doctor had a splendid view of his winking arsehole. "With my fingers.." Sherlock ran his lubed up fingers around his own hole and John groaned his eyes wide and shot and begging. "Do you want my fingers again John.. deep inside you..?" Sherlock pushed with some difficulty two of his own fingers in himself. He grunted as they breached the muscle, John felt his cock twitch. "Would you like me to sit on you're cock and milk it until you can't take anymore.." the detective continued, fucking himself with his own fingers, a wanton moan escaping his throat. John pulled violently on the restraints. "Would you like your present inside you, buzzing away, stretching you.." The detective pulled his fingers out of himself and licked them slowly "Or should I put it in myself John..?' Sherlock pressed the on switch of the toy and it buzzed into life. Johns mouth fell open in utter shock as the detective reached back and making sure John could see everything he pushed the toy hard into his hole. John could see him stretching around it. The detectives mouth made an O shape and then his eyes glazed. "Oh God John.. it's good.." John actually could not take anymore. No more teasing.. no more dirty talk... he just wanted..

"Fuck Sherlock, just fuck my dirty fucking arse with you dirty fucking cock now!" Sherlocks eyes met Johns and John could see the shiver his words had caused. He crawled up onto the bed the toy embedded deep within him causing his cock and thighs to twitch. He pushed Johns legs apart and then placed both calves over his shoulders. Laying a kiss on the doctors angry cock Sherlock looked John seriously in the eye.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked. Johns initial response was to say no, of course he wasn't, don't be silly, and then he saw Sherlocks eyes and realized that yes, there in that place he was a virgin. The only thing that had ever gone up his arse was a doctors finger on a medical check and Sherlocks three fingers.

"Yes." Sherlock swallowed visibly.

"Is.. is this okay John..?" John closed his eyes briefly and nodded.

"Oh yes Sherlock." he whispered. "You gave me yours now I give you mine in return." He heard Sherlocks breath catch, could see the nerves behind those eyes.

"Im.. fairly certain I know what I'm doing John.. but I haven't done this before.. If.. if I can't.. can I just sit on you instead?" Sherlock asked suddenly coy, almost shy and John wished he had his hands free.

"Yes Sherlock.. That's fine.." John felt the detectives cock nudge his hole. "wait." Sherlock froze, worry on his pale face "Sherlock.. will you uncuff me please.. another time you can have me anyway you want.. but I want to hold you now." Sherlock blinked once. His hand stroked Johns chest. He smiled a little, nervous and unsure. Then the detective reached under the pillow next to Johns head and withdrew the keys. John rolled his eyes, typical, right where he would never have guessed they'd be. Leaning up and over John the detective carefully undid one cuff. John pulled free and took the key from Sherlock unlocking his other wrist. Then he pulled Sherlock close and kissed him. He felt Sherlocks cock nudge his hole again, could feel the buzzing of the toy imbedded deep in the detectives rectum and he sighed.

"Come on then love.. break a leg.." John coaxed pushing up against Sherlocks cock which was angled for penetration. He heard the detective grunt as his cock bumped Johns entrance. "Come on Sherlock... just push in.. don't worry abut it hurting me.. that will soon pass and.." John gave a wry grin "pain isn't all bad." Sherlock pushed forward "Slowly.. slowly.. slowly.. Oh God Sherlock I can feel you.." John gave a short laugh "I can feel that damn vibrator in you..that's amazing. Yeah, go on push harder" John felt his ring go, felt the tip of Sherlocks cock enter him and tried very hard not to push him back out. Sherlock had paused his eyes on Johns.

"Go.. on please.." the doctor managed in a strained voice and Sherlock moved and that was good. "Yeah yeah yeah.. all the way love, all the way.. Fuck you fill me up Sherlock.. God you feel amazing." Sherlock stopped when he hit Johns prostrate and his cock brushed over it gently. His eyes were wide, his body trying to process the amazing sensation of John Watson's insides stretching around him.

They stayed like that for several moments, both trying to catalogue everything that was happening, until finally John thrust up against the detective. Sherlocks looked down at John with glassy drugged eyes and thrust his hips back a little.

"Pull out Sherlock.." John groaned "pull out and push back in.. fuck me Sherlock." The detective needed no other direction. Very slowly he pulled out and then slid back, John swallowed. He did it again and again. Johns hips met his cautious thrusts.

"Is.. is this okay John?" the detective asked. John nodded. "Shall we go a little harder..?" Johns sighed with bliss,

"Oh yes.. yes please." Sherlock pulled out again and this time entered John a little faster. John grunted, Sherlock liked that so he did it again. In response Johns hands gripped at the detectives arse, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging them hard with his nails. It was Sherlocks turn to groan and he thrust harder. The massager was buzzing against his prostate and when John grabbed it and began thrusting it in time to Sherlocks own thrusts the detective screamed out with the glorious agony of sensation. He could feel he was close, his thrusts were getting harder, John was driving the pace by increasing the thrusts with the toy. Reaching down between them Sherlock quickly released Johns ringed cock, slipping the ring away. John groaned out and began canting his hips up harder into Sherlocks thrusts.

"Deeper.. harder Sherlock.. Oh fuck me my love.." Sherlock pounded Johns arse, he could feel his pleasure curling and twisting inside him, in his brain. Shock-waves were starting to pound forward.

"J..John.. I can't.. I need to.." John rammed the toy into Sherlocks arse harder and screamed

"Oh yes.. oh yes.. Come for me Sherlock.. fucking come in my arse." Sherlock felt Johns body stiffen and then watched as Johns cock shot wave after wave of thick creamy seed over and between them both and that tipped him over the edge. Roaring out Johns name Sherlock emptied himself deep into Johns arse, the wave went on and on until finally Sherlock collapsed onto Johns spunk covered stomach, his brain had ceased to function. Johns hand snaked round and stroked through Sherlocks sweaty curls for a few moments while each man caught their breath. Then John giggled.

"You've got my come in your hair." Sherlock glanced up, eyes still glazed a silly grin appeared on his face.

"So? You've got my spunk in you're arse." and they laughed and John helped the exhausted detective clamber up his body to curl about him and kiss him and lull him.

Later, after dozing in the warm after glow together, the two men settled down against each other to sleep.

"Goodnight Sherlock." John smiled, his hand stroked his lovers chest tenderly. Sherlock curled about John, his arm thrown over him in a protective needy way, his legs tangled up with the other mans. He yawned against Johns chest and made a contented noise in his throat before planting a single kiss against Johns flesh.

"Goodnight love.." he said.


	9. Chapter 9

This has taken ages to get out. I promise more smutty smut next chapter, mentions in this of future smut. Thank you so much for all your kind comments and adds and faves. I love you all.

Thank you to my lovely beta on this story NaughtyKnitter. You are a genius!

Chapter 9 - The first denial.

John awoke the morning after Sherlock had first fucked him with a groan. Christ he ached. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling a dark ache in his backside Sherlock had caused. John smiled a little, it was fine, because the pleasure the detective bestowed on him far outweighed any discomfort he might now feel. After all it had been he who had screamed for Sherlock to fuck him harder, faster. John grinned at the memories of the previous night and gently turned his head on the pillow to look at the sleeping man next to him. John smiled happily as he took in the sight of a sleeping Sherlock. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, so different from the insane, loud, childish, buoyant, pain in the arse of a man he was when he was awake. Not that John was complaining about any of those aspects of his personality. When he had finally accepted his own nature he had realized that all those aspects, annoying as they were, were what made Sherlock so unique. They were exactly why John had followed him in the first place. 'Could be dangerous'. Yes, it could, but that didn't matter because from the moment John had set eyes on Sherlock he was lost to him and within a day he was willing to follow him straight into hell. In fact, he had on many occasions. But this, this was the balance. Heaven and hell and everything in-between.

Sherlock made a little mewling sound in his sleep and his body curled closer to John's warmth. Sherlock's hair tumbled across his forehead, clinging lovingly to his cheekbones, a wild mess of corkscrew curls which managed to look so perfect that John just wanted to bury his nose into them and take in his lover's sleepy scent.

"Lover.." John whispered silently to himself, gently bringing his hand up into those welcoming curls and petting them tenderly. Sherlock instinctively pushed his head up against Johns hand and sighed deeply. John smiled, again mouthing the word to himself and then froze ever so slightly. Last night Sherlock...Sherlock Holmes last night had called him.. love? John pushed his mind back into the night before, and yes, just before John had fallen asleep he had heard those words. John blinked at this, his revelation. He had been so utterly boneless, sedated that he'd missed the importance of those last words. Sherlock had called John by a pet name.

John shifted his other arm cautiously. Sherlock's own arm was over his and laying lightly over John's stomach. Even in sleep his need to protect John persevered. John was quite proud of just how much Sherlock had slept of late. Suddenly the thought of going to bed didn't seem quite so bad with the thought of John's warmth in it. The doctor managed to slip his arm out from underneath the sleeping detective and wound it around Sherlock's waist, pulling himself into a closer embrace. Sherlock murmured something and then wriggled slightly to accommodate John, his eyes briefly flickering open, a half smile appearing and then resting on his lips as sleep claimed him once again.

John closed his eyes, his head now on Sherlock's shoulder, one hand against Sherlock's chest where it absently stroked one of the detective's nipples, the other over the detective's flat stomach and curving around his hip bone. John sighed happily breathing in Sherlocks skin, the detective's hair tickling his cheek as he did so.

It was a good hour or more before Sherlock finally came to. When he did he found John...snuggled against him. Every morning was a new wonder to Sherlock these days. It was as if he was an infant born over and over, because when he looked down John would be there and Sherlock couldn't quite believe it. This morning John was wrapped up closely to him, his arms holding on to the detective. Sherlock deduced that they could not have slept like this all night, so John must have woken and wrapped himself against his sleeping form. This made Sherlock smile, because it meant that John wanted to be close to him. That he wanted him. Good, brilliant, clever, loyal, 'I'm not gay' John Watson wanted him and last night had laid himself completely open and vulnerable to the detective and had then begged him for more. Sherlock felt like the luckiest person alive...again...and began grinning up at the ceiling idiotically. He caught himself and tried to stop being so silly, but Sherlock couldn't. He was happy and he realized for the first time in his life he was also content. The only thing that intruded on this feeling was the thought that it couldn't last.

Sherlock knew it was ludicrous to think such things, it wasn't as if John and he had been together long. It was only just over a week but, in a way, it felt as though they had been together forever. But the only thing Sherlock could think was "what would happen if John changed his mind? What if he met a pretty girl and realized that this was all a mistake? What if he retreated back into old stumbling grounds? Could what they had before remain intact?" Sherlock wasn't sure he would be able to cope without John anymore. He had become hideously and almost embarrassingly dependent on his beautiful doctor. It scared him.

John shifted against the detective, his eyes opening slowly. He grinned at Sherlock as soon as he saw him and, almost impossibly, snuggled in closer to him.

"Mmm..." he hummed contently and sleepily. "Good morning detective."

Sherlock smiled down fondly at John, and for now the shadows at the edge of his mind were chased away. Chased away by John's heat and breath and fingers, which were hooked tightly onto his bare skin.

"John." Sherlock said low and gently. John moved a little and groped for his phone on the table by the bed. He glanced at the clock.

"Ahhh shit.." he moaned. Sherlock raised a brow and seemed to gather John closer to him. He nuzzled the doctors neck.

"mmm.. what is it John?" John yawned and half shook his head.

"You know very well." he continued. "Work day Sherlock." the detective growled disgruntledly.

"Again John?" he tone had that petulant childish edge to it as his clever tongue lapped once at Johns neck. John shivered and then stiffened. Oh no, this couldn't happen every morning.

John groaned grumpily and made an attempt to pull away from the long limbs of his detective. This only made Sherlock pull him closer in, lock on to John tighter with his fingers and throw one long leg around the doctor's shorter ones. Sherlock drew his tongue over John's throat once again and then nipped softly at the skin there. John groaned again, but this time he couldn't disguise the wave of lust that was threatening the edges of his subconscious. He felt Sherlock's smile against his neck as the detective nuzzled him. Damn Sherlock. John felt his loins begin to stir as Sherlock ran a long finger over his chest to circle insistently against his left nipple. John felt the sedentary nature of lust begin to cloud his brain.

"Oh Sherlock.." he whispered. Giving in was far too easy. John was far too easy. Suddenly the doctor pulled Sherlock's curls into his palm and yanked his head up away from his neck. The detective let out a yelp of surprise only to have it smothered by John's mouth suddenly against his own. John growled and forced his tongue into the suddenly submissive mouth. They kissed wildly for several moments until John yanked Sherlock's head away and looked him sternly in the eyes.

"That is all you're getting this morning. I'm sorry Sherlock, but at some point Sarah will loose patience. I can't be late again." Sherlock's eyes widened at John's suddenly commanding tone and tried to pull forward to take John's mouth. The doctor yanked Sherlock's hair again. "No Sherlock. Now stop it. I'm going for a shower and you are going to make me coffee." the detective blinked. Did John just order him to make coffee...?

"I... John... I..." Sherlock's brain was apparently on holiday. There was something about that voice John was using. It was...Sherlock gulped and blinked in astonishment. It was turning him on. It was making him hard. Oh goodness. John had now managed to untangle himself from Sherlock and let go of his hair. Getting out of bed he grinned. Bending he kissed his lover's head gently.

"Coffee please." He urged. Sherlock's eyes snapped up to Johns face.

"Yes sir." he said without a seconds thought. It was Johns turn to blink. Had he heard that right?

"What?" the doctor asked incredulously.

"Yes, I'll make you coffee John." and with that the detective rolled out of bed dragging the sheets with him and cocooning himself inside them. John stared at his mad lover from across the bed.

"Did... did you just agree to make me coffee?" John eventually managed "did I just manage to detach myself from you without a fight?"

Sherlock blinked and then blushed slightly. "It would appear so..." he mumbled. He began to shuffle towards the bedroom door. He turned, slightly sheepishly, to look at John eyes sweeping over Johns fine muscles and skin hungrily. "...I...that voice John...it confuses me." he muttered hastily before moving out of the room to take care of the task John had given him.

John stood for some moments working through what had just happened, and then it came to him. It was his voice, that tone of voice. His captain's voice. Sherlock liked it, in fact John worked out that the detective more than liked it. The doctor shook his head disbelievingly and then grinned. Oh, this could be fun; for once he had an advantage. Practically skipping to the shower and whistling "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" John called out sternly,

"I'm waiting Sherlock!"

That morning John had actually made it into work on time.

Not having to make the coffee OR breakfast, after a short command had somehow ensured that Sherlock had somehow managed to make him some edible toast with jam, John had showered and dressed and been out of the flat on time.

Having had to make neither the coffee nor breakfast after a short command that had ensured that Sherlock somehow managed to make him some edible toast with jam, John had showered and dressed and been out of the flat on time.

The detective had a slightly sulky look about him as John did up his shoes. Still wrapped in his sheet, he leant against the kitchen table with his eyes to the floor. John got up and crossed to where Sherlock stood. He took both of the detective's hands in his own. Sherlock's eyes rose to meet his and John smiled softly.

"Breakfast was lovely, Sherlock." he said, sliding one hand free to caress his lover's jaw. "Well done." John saw the pride flash in Sherlocks eyes momentarily and then it was gone. Sherlock was struggling with what had happened that morning. John imagined he was uncomfortable; to lose control of himself, to allow another to control him...it must be a lot to process. John leaned in and kissed Sherlock slowly and deeply and tenderly.

Sherlock's body reacted and he pressed himself into John. The doctor felt his lover's cock hard against his thigh, and his breath caught in his throat. God, it would be so easy just to have him here against the kitchen table, and it took all of John's self-control not to do just that.

Instead he pulled back and stroked Sherlock's wild curls back from his face.

"We will go back to this later, Sherlock. In the meantime, I don't want you to touch yourself." Sherlock blinked.

"But John..." he almost whined, "you won't.. you didn't.." John's fingers covered that bow of a mouth as he shushed the detective gently.

"We can't always be with each other." the doctor had explained gently. "As much as I want to right now...but later...do you want me to have you later?"

Sherlock moaned, his eyes shut in unbidden rapture. "Oh yes John.. I want you John."

John's mouth went to Sherlock's ear then, biting gently as he whispered, "Later I'll have you against this table, over this table. I'll have you scratching marks into the wood as I take you. I'll fuck you against the sink, on the stairs, I will make you scream..."

Sherlock began panting as John continued "...but you will not touch yourself until I get home. You will shower and dress and ring Lestrade. I know you don't want a case because I'm your greatest distraction at the moment, but life does go on Sherlock. Get a case and do some work." John drew back to look into the detectives slightly glazed eyes. "Will you do that?"

Sherlock managed to nod slightly. "If.. if I get a case John.." he said roughly "will you come?"

"Of course." John whispered. "When don't I come?" The detective's eyes burned into John's and the doctor felt the sudden flame of affection jump, saw the emotion in Sherlock's eyes reflecting clearly for a moment before he dragged himself reluctantly away. He grabbed his bag and went to the door. Sherlock seemed to shake himself out of his mesmerized state then and John chuckled.

"Remember..." he called cheerfully on his way out, "You can look, but no touching!"


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry, again this has taken too long to get out. I've been ill and not really into writing sexytimes this week, but things are looking up.

Getting into kink here. You've been warned.

Thank you to my beta NaughtyKnitter. Any mistakes here are mine alone.

Sorry, again this has taken too long to get out. I've been ill and not really into writing sexytimes this week, but things are looking up.

Getting into kink here. You've been warned.

Thank you to my beta NaughtyKnitter. Any mistakes here are mine alone.

Chapter 10 - Punishment.

Sarah smiled cheerfully as John bounced through the door of the surgery that day.

"Hmmm.. You seem happy." she said, shooting him a secret look. John felt himself blush a little as the image of Sherlock forcing the prostate massager up his beautiful arse the night before flashed before his eyes. The very prostate massager that Sarah had given him only hours before that. The dull ache inside him seemed to thrum a little more as if to deliberately embarrass him further. John dropped his eyes, shyness overtaking him and pretended to busy himself with hanging up his coat.

"Morning Sarah." he murmured. Sarah tilted her head. She chuckled a little and then made her way around the reception desk and out the door to stand by John.

"Um.. John.. I know this will probably make you blush even more than you already are.." she said quietly and kindly "but I feel its only fair to tell you that the shirt you're wearing is not quite covering up the amazing 'bruise' you have on your lower neck." Johns hand went straight to his neck and he groaned, his head falling against the coat tree in the reception with a undisguised bump. Damn Sherlock. He would make him pay for this one.

"I'm assuming that all is well in heaven then John?" Sarah smiled and touched his shoulder gently. John heaved a sigh of resignation.

"It would appear so and any attempt to deny that is pointless now.. Damn him, why didn't he tell me?" John raised his head to look at Sarah. She had a barely disguised smile on her face, but it was friendly and slightly sympathetic. John had a good idea why Sherlock hadn't noticed the love-bite this morning, it may have had something to do with the detectives glazed expression and Johns promises of places they would fuck later, but he would pay none-the-less for putting it there in the first place. He shook his head despairingly. "I'll have to go home again Sarah.. I'll change my shirt.. or something.." Sarah raised an eyebrow and then took hold of Johns arm.

"Come on John.. I have a plan. You don't have to go home.. unless you just want to beat a certain detective friend of yours for something I don't know anything about.." John had to grin then "..I can fix this John. Come on." John followed Sarah to her office and shut the door firmly behind him. Sarah took out her bag and began to produce concealer and foundation and various other make-up products.

"Oh Sarah. You're a genius." Sarah shot a grin Johns way and then instructed him to sit. She began dabbing on make up carefully.

"So I assume that you finally got over yourself then John?" she asked quietly. John glanced to her face in surprise.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean that you are in no way a straight man anymore John.. You finally got over the last hurdle and accepted yourself.. It's good John.. Being gay isn't.." John stilled Sarah's busy hands for a moment. He looked his ex straight in the eyes.

"I'm not gay Sarah." he said firmly. Sarah rolled her eyes and continued with her daubing of his neck.

"Yes John. Whatever you say John." She murmured sarcastically before drawing back. "There all done. Your non-gay bruise is all but gone." John stood and looked into the mirror above the sink. Sarah had done a brilliant job. He turned,

"Oh Sarah, thank you so much. I dunno.. he's a pain in the arse.. I mean seriously.." John then realized what he had just said and blushed a little. His arse throbbed in response. Sarah just laughed.

"I'm sure he is John.. and I really hope that you get over your need to be 'straight' because honestly John, you can't say that.." She sighed "Look it's fine, if you don't want anyone to know.. fine. I won't say a thing. But John I'm not stupid." John gazed at his pretty ex for a long moment. Then he spoke slowly.

"Sarah.. I'm not saying that. I am not gay, however I am with Sherlock now. But that doesn't make me gay, it just means that I like him. It wouldn't matter what skin he came wrapped in because it's him. It's just right and good and I was a fool not too see it ages ago." Sarah seemed to let out a breath she'd been holding for a long time. "Don't ever think Sarah that I didn't fancy you.. I did. We just were never meant to be because I'd already met my other half, my 'to be' I just hadn't seen it. I'm sorry that I didn't know because I could have spared you any trouble.. the bloody chinese mafia and uh.. everything else." Sarah's eyes met Johns and John could see a single tear fall. And then they were hugging. Sarah's head on Johns shoulder wetting his jumper.

"It's fine John. It's all fine. I knew from almost the first date I think. I'm sorry too for any shit I gave you. I'm sorry and I'm glad for you. F.. for you both." The two of them hugged for a long time and John realized that Sarah had needed this since their breakup. She needed the closure. Eventually the doctor whispered

"Do.. do you think that maybe.. maybe we're destined to be.. but to be best friends?" Sarah smiled against John and nodded gently.

Sherlock had spent most of the day driving himself insane. He paced the flat after John left, the thought of what his lover intended to do to him later torturing him. This just made his nagging erection worse, and the fact that he had been told not to touch himself made it impossible to not think about. After an hour of pacing and dramatically flopping about the sofa, the detective decided a shower would help. However, as soon as the needles of water touched him he realized this was not the case at all. He stared down at his own flesh, his fingers twitching agitatedly by his hips thinking of John's last words to him. Some moments later he threw himself out of the shower with a growl of frustration and dressed hastily. Eventually and grudgingly he had sent Lestrade a text. The detective inspector was pleased to hear from him and dragged him in to look at a body with what appeared to be suction cap marks all over it. It took Sherlock less than thirty seconds to work it out. It was far more likely to have been an accident and not a murder, as the man in the question had a fetish for pain. He had died from asphyxiation as proven by the slight marks around his neck from where the bottom of a mask would have fitted, as well as the marks on his nails where he had tried to pull a zipper on it. The marks on his body were "obviously" from a suction cup. He had been about to have sex with a woman who had obviously got scared and done a runner, probably his paid mistress. Lestrade looked slightly disturbed by his conclusions and Sherlock had to smirk. The detective had then hacked the poor man's email account and found that, indeed, he was seeing someone called "Mistress Emily", and left Lestrade to sort out the legwork.

He returned to the flat and laid on his bed with a sigh. The case had helped a little to ease his nagging need for John, but now that he was home his mind began working over the situation again.

Vengeance was first on his list. How dare John leave him like this? Sherlock thought he'd quite like to jump the doctor on his way in from work, get the handcuffs on him, tease him mercilessly until the doctor was begging for release, and then just leave him like that. That would be fair turn about. But then again part of him wanted John to fuck him in to oblivion tonight. He wanted to John to use that voice again, to tell him what to do, to subdue him and use him as he saw fit. Thesethoughts set Sherlock's groin throbbing with need again and his hands wandered towards it. But John's voice echoed in his head telling him no. Sherlock frowned. Why on earth would he take such notice, and why did the denial make him even more horny?

These thoughts were still busy in his head when Sherlock heard the door of the flat. He started, he actually started and sat up on his bed with a jerk. John. John was home.

John smiled as he entered the apparently empty flat. He had heard the faint movement in Sherlock's room and knew the detective was in fact in. He made his was silently through the half dark, stripping his coat from his body as he did so. He stopped by the detective's half closed door and listened. In the silence of the flat the doctor could just make out the sound of Sherlock's breathing. It had hitched. Part of John wanted to just eat and watch some crap TV, but he was mindful of his promise this morning. After all, Sherlock had probably been mulling it over most of the day. Then he heard Sherlock's voice, deep and dark and rich.

"John", it said, very quietly. John took hold of the door handle and pushed the door open. It was darker inside the detective's room, due to the curtains being closed, and it took the doctors eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, he saw Sherlock. He lay quietly on the bed, his head turned slightly in the direction of the doctor, his hands against his lips in thought. John didn't say a word but crossed to the bed swiftly, kicking the door shut firmly as he did so. He sat gently on the bed and looked down at his lover sternly.

"Were you good?" John asked in a low but commanding tone. Sherlock'seyes lit and met his, he nodded biting his lip a little. John kicked

his shoes off and slipped onto the bed beside his quiet lover. Sherlock's eyes met John's and the doctor could see hunger in them. Those eyes drifted to John's neck, the bite there still shining with muted colours. John saw the pride in Sherlocks eyes. Gently the doctor ran his fingers over Sherlock's shirt, his fingers catching at the buttons. He found a nipple and rubbed it very softly. Sherlock's eyes flickered and a sigh of a moan escaped his throat.

"Frustrated?" John asked. Sherlock bit his lip.

"What do you think?" he growled in response.

"Hmmm..." John murmured thoughtfully, his fingers traced the hardening nub of flesh beneath Sherlocks shirt a little more firmly. "And what do you want to do about that love?" Sherlock moved then. His hand gripped at the one caressing him and he jolted upright. Seconds later he was on John, sitting above him hands pinning him to the bed. Lowering his head Sherlock's mouth met John's with an animalistic fury. He bit at the doctor's tender bottom lip and ground his hips down furiously. John moaned and the detective growled into the kiss. Both men's mouths moved, tongues dueling.

'Oh no' John thought, this was not how things were supposed to go. Sherlocks mouth was dominating him, lulling him. Part of John wanted to just close his eyes and allow himself to be ravished but as Sherlocks mouth bit it's way down over his jaw to fix on his neck and begin sucking John remembered that morning. He remembered his embarrassment and his desire to punish his wayward detective. He also remembered the way Sherlock had bent to his will before he had left. Oh yes, John could get into that. Relaxing into Sherlocks grip John allowed himself to take on a submissive frame. He felt Sherlock relax a little as his lapped at his neck and John began to make little keening noises of defeat, wriggling his hips up breaking down Sherlock. As the detective drew back to look upon his handiwork John took his chance. Slipping his hands free with ease he gripped the detectives wrists firmly and rolled them over with a lightening quick movement. Sherlock had obviously not been expecting this because he blinked up in surprise for a second before struggling against John's hands and gripping legs.

"Oh no young man." John said sternly looking his lover straight in the eyes "You stay down. You have been a very bad boy and you haven't helped yourself with that display." Sherlock stopped struggling and gazed up at John uncomprehendingly. He blinked several times. John let go of one of Sherlocks wrists and bought it up to that confused face to caress gently. "This morning Sherlock Sarah saw the marks you left on me. You embarrassed me and now you've marked me again." the doctor explained tenderly but firmly. "I think you deserve to be punished for that." John felt Sherlocks already hard cock throbbed once beneath his beautifully tailored trousers. "I should take my belt of to you really..." John continued his voice dropping down an octave, his fingers catching a curl and twisting it thoughtfully. Sherlocks eyes grew wide mirroring his quickly dilating pupils. John leaned in and kissed the detective softly. "I think that idea excites you doesn't it?" the doctor murmured against that bow of a mouth. Sherlock whimpered against him, his body beginning to go limp a sure sign of submission. "Maybe sometime I will..." John continued "...but tonight love I'm going to punish you with my hand. The hand that strokes you so softly, that can bring you such ecstatic pleasure will show you it's other side. I'm going to spank that tight little arse of yours Sherlock. I'm going to make you wriggle and struggle. I'm going to turn that perfect white skin pink and then red and then..." Johns mouth moved close to Sherlocks ear "...then I'm going to pull those sore, hot cheeks apart and I'm going to fuck you into next week." Sherlock let put a low and over-sexed moan. His eyes closed against John's words as his body began tingling from head to toe. John let go of Sherlocks other wrist fairly certain that his lover was now suitably cowed and his climbed off him. Sherlock followed Johns movements with his eyes but made no move. John smiled.

"Come on then, get up love." Sherlock blinked again and then quickly followed to where John stood. "I want you to undress in here Sherlock" John continued, his voice now firm. "I'm going into the lounge and I want you join me in..." John took out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment. He dropped it on the bed and looked back up at Sherlock. "... join me when the alarm sounds." John made for the door then turned with a grin "And remember... No touching young man." Sherlock straightened his eyes flashing,

"Yes sir." that thick lustful voice snapped and the words hung like strands of honey in the air.

John grinned to himself as he left Sherlocks room and shut the door behind him. Ten minutes should be enough time for him to get ready and for Sherlock to remain pleasantly submissive. John cheerfully made his way to the kitchen and began boiling the kettle. Whistling happily to himself the doctor quickly grabbed some of the emergency candles that Mrs. Hudson always kept topping up and lit a few around the flat. He then got a cloth and a bowl of water and put it by his chair, John wasn't sure how far he was going to push tonight but he wanted to be prepared. Then, still whistling he made himself a cup of tea. Settling it and one of Sherlocks lighters on the coffee table John flipped the lock on the flat door and dimmed the lights. The flat looked cozy . Nipping into the kitchen to grab some biscuits John noticed the wooden spoon he used for cooking. With a smirk John grabbed it and made his way back to the lounge. Placing the spoon by the bowl he considered that he probably wouldn't use it but the army had taught him to 'always be prepared' for any eventuality. John removed his shirt lazily and then settled back in his chair flexing his fingers before reaching for his tea.

As the alarm sounded Sherlock jumped. He was sat on the edge of his bed bollocks naked and thrumming with anticipation. How was it that John knew exactly what buttons to push? He had undressed swiftly and had glanced down at his hard throbbing flesh. A little rebellion had sprung up then and his hand had wandered. His fist had gripped his cock and Sherlock had allowed himself a few quick strokes. His eyes had closed his had parted and he had murmured Johns name. It was that which had stopped him. His hand had dropped away and he had sat. He'd thought over John's words and the muscles in his arse had twitched slightly. John wanted to spank him. Sherlocks breathing had quickened at the thought. There was no denying that he liked it rough but this was different. This was regimented, disciplined pain.

Sherlock quickly grabbed Johns phone and turned of the shrieking alarm. He swallowed once and then turned to the door. He felt odd, it wasn't as if John hadn't seen him naked but this felt different. The detective felt nervous, exposed. Closing his eyes and taking a fortifying breath Sherlock squared his shoulders and took hold of the door handle. Opening the door Sherlock could smell almost instantly the scent of wax. John had put candles on. He looked into the lounge cautiously. John was sat, fully clothed, in his chair and was carefully dunking a biscuit into a cup of tea. The detectives eyes flicked around the room quickly. He noticed the bowl and the cloth and the spoon by the chair. He worked out what the spoon could be for and his sphincter tightened at the thought of the wood against his flesh, but the bowl and cloth... what were they for? Before he could make a deduction John called to him.

"Sherlock. Come on love. Come here and sit with me." Sherlock blushed. He felt even more naked now he saw that John was fully clothed. Quickly the detective moved from the door and moved quickly to where John sat. He stood before John, his head lowered in submission and shame. John was openly appraising him and Sherlock found that despite the fact that he felt utterly vulnerable his already hard cock was growing harder. John snapped his fingers suddenly and pointed at the ground. Sherlock blinked in utter bewilderment and then gave John an 'as if' look. John didn't say anything but raised both of his brows pointedly and again pointed at the ground. Sherlock felt his resolve weakening and swore to himself internally that he would get John back for all of this as he sank to his knees. Once he was there the detective found that actually it wasn't so bad. Yes, it was embarrassing to be knelt at his lovers feet, but it did mean he wasn't under Johns constant gaze and when John told him he was a 'good boy' Sherlock could feel himself glow beneath the praise.

John finished his tea in silence. His cock was throbbing beneath his jeans. The sight of Sherlock naked and willing and blushing was one of the finest sights John had ever beheld. He was fairly sure he was going to get a finer veiw fairly soon, but for now John was content. He had wanted to push Sherlock and see how far he could take him. Getting the detective to kneel beside him without one single word made Johns chest want to burst. And as they sat together in silence Sherlock suddenly rested his curly head on one of Johns knees and sighed sweetly. John smiled down and stroked his curls. Reaching over the detective his abandoned his teacup and with gently fingers lifted Sherlocks head so that their eyes could meet.

"I want to punish you love." John said softly "You know why don't you?" Sherlocks big eyes met Johns and his head nodded slightly.

"Yes Sir." he whispered, the title becoming a default phrase due to the situation. John smiled.

"I like it when you call me that pet." he said "I think for tonight that is what you should call me. Do you understand that?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Of course I do Sir" came the slightly sarcastic reply.

"Right then." John smiled "Now, I don't want any cheek from you tonight, that being a prime example. So..." John leaned over and bought up the wooden spoon "I have an idea." Johns eyes twinkled. "I will forgive you the last answer as we had made no rules... but I think that from now on tonight every time you are sarcastic, give me lip or don't say 'sir' you get a stroke on your arse from this." Sherlock visibly trembled. John leaned forward his thumbs caressing Sherlocks high cheekbones. "You are okay with this aren't you Sherlock?" Johns eyes now showed concern and Sherlocks hands came up to cover the doctors. His eyes held Johns steadily.

"Yes John." Sherlocks voice betrayed his arousal "It is new John... But God yes I want it." the detective swallowed and then he gave a smirk "I want this 'Sir'" John pulled his hands away and grinned.

"That's your first stroke in the bag you sarcastic git." The doctor smiled "Now I think you should get that gorgeous arse over my knee."

"Yes..." the detective groaned "please Sir."


	11. Chapter 11

Ah, taken ages again. Sorry for the slow build up on this scene, but good things come to those who play the long game. ;)

Spanking ahead, you have been warned.

Thank you to naughtyknitter for all her help and a shoutout to Emmish for all the lovely reviews.

Chapter 11 - The case of the wooden spoon.

Sherlock could feel his legs trembling beneath him as he crawled around to the side of John and waited. The detective had always considered himself to have a very high pain threshold but he had no idea how far John wanted to take this. He looked up at his doctor with large puppy-dog eyes and John smiled sweetly.

"Right love" the doctor said in a stern voice "you know your safe word don't you?" Sherlock smirked a little and nodded. "Ah..." John smiled "Don't think you'll need it? Hmmm, we'll see. Now come on up." Sherlock stood on shaky legs as John moved forward in his chair until he was perched on the edge. The wooden spoon was placed carefully on the arm of his chair. "Okay..." John mused, tilting his head to measure the detectives frame and the best way to proceed "I guess just get over my knee and get comfy love, we'll be here sometime" Sherlocks heart lurched at the words, John's thickened voice sending shudders through him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then did exactly as John asked. Gracefully bending and laying himself prone across Johns lap the detective balanced himself carefully, hands and knees in contact with the floor. Instantly Sherlock could feel Johns erections prodding his soft belly and he sighed in honest submission as John settled him and arranged him comfortably across his knees. A moment later the detective felt Johns hand on his back, the other in his hair. One tangled and twisted his curls gently, the other stroked his long spine, fingers running the length of it to the apex of his buttocks and back again. This continued for sometime and Sherlock felt himself drift. The long strokes on his back were comforting and the fingers in his hair sensual. Sherlock was discovering John had a thing for his hair, not that he minded at all. John slowed the movements he was making gradually. His fingers became rougher in those glossy curls until he was gently tugging at them. Sherlock shivered at the slight pain and let out a dark moan. Yes, he liked it when John pulled his hair, every tug on his scalp sent ripples down his back, sent sparks to his groin. Oh yes, Sherlock liked hair pulling a lot. The doctors fingers ran once more down his spine and then rested on the crest of the detectives buttocks. Sherlock felt himself thrust up as Johns hand stilled and remained there, his buttocks pushing up wanting more contact. The detective smiled ruefully and squeezed his eyes shut. John, good gentle captain John had him completely under his power. Sherlock had always considered his body to be transport and nothing more, but John's hands, his mouth had made it so much more.

"Mmmm... Good boy. Very good boy Sherlock." John soothed gently, his hand taking hold of his lovers hair more firmly and tugging at it. Sherlock moaned. John drifted his other hand down a little lower across Sherlocks pales cheeks and then used a single finger to split that peach of an arse oh so slowly. Sherlock couldn't see, but he could feel it as Johns fingers worked its way over, between and in. John allowed his finger to brush just once against the detectives hole and the feel of it just resting there was electric and, oh, so not enough. Pushing back trying to get more contact Sherlock groaned out his disappointment as John pulled his finger away, leaving him wanting and he thrust his arse up higher.

John chuckled at the gesture and lay one of his hands on top of those soft white globes. Sherlock sighed at the contact, the doctors hand hot and heavy on him. He could feel the roughness and the softness. Johns fingertips, as they stroked gently at the soft seat of Sherlocks globes, were like satin on silk. They were offset however by the burn marks that marred some parts of the doctors hands. He had picked them up when in the war, and they scraped and singed the soft downy flesh with curious sensual ability. Sherlock moaned at the duel contrasting pleasures wantonly.

"Are you ready Sherlock?" John asked suddenly, his voice dangerously soft. The detective stiffened slightly before forcing his body to relax. His arse clenched once slightly and then Sherlock nodded as best he could against John's tight grip.

"Yes John..." He whispered softly. Johns hand tightened in his curls and jolted the detectives head once. Sherlock winced and remembered.

"Yes... What?" John hissed, lowering his head to the back of Sherlocks neck and nipping at it lightly.

"Y... yes Sir." the detective moaned out.

"Good boy. Extra stroke of the spoon I'm afraid though. I don't know, two extras and I haven't even started yet." John tutted with amusement. "I'm going to start out light love and build you up to that though." John's hand raised and Sherlock tried his very best not to flinch. John waiting, the silence of seconds hung between then both. The air was thick and both mens breathing ceased. And then Sherlock heard the slight swish of the air and closed his eyes. John's hand fell with a sharp noise Sherlock felt the sting. Not a strong sting but enough to start out with. The prone detective gasped and then moaned almost silently in his throat. It took a moment. The sting kicked in and then spread warmly and that was good. Sherlocks mouth turned upwards, heat spreading, cock twitching out its approval as Johns hand lifted up again and Sherlock practically purred.

John smiled as his hand landed on the opposite cheek to the one he had already struck. He wasn't being heavy, but he could feel the spring-back of the sting in the palm of his own hand. A small scarlet mark was springing up on Sherlocks right buttock as Johns hand landed with a thwack on the left and it was fascinating to watch. John could imagine that he could be on the receiving end of this himself if he wasn't too careful. Sherlock would want to exact his revenge and the detectives sense of justice always veered towards the 'eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth' policy. Not that John was completely opposed to the idea but Sherlock did have the tendency for getting carried away and would see the whole process as some fascinating experiment. John struck Sherlocks right buttock again and watched as his hand print bloomed in dusky pink on the white flesh. He continued onward gently, gradually building the pressure drawing out the heat. His cock throbbed with every smack and part of John wished he'd gone bareback for this. His erection rubbed with annoying pressure on his cotton underwear and trousers demanding escape. John tried to concentrate only on Sherlocks needs though. The detective had been silent pretty much up until now the only sounds were strange little breathy noises, but as John hit a little lower slapping the 'sweet spot' where thigh meets cheek he heard the detective make a small half-strangled sound. John felt his heart lurch into his throat. Oh God that sound, it was so utterly sexy. John picked up the pace a little, hitting the soft cheeks that lay on his lap harder. His own hand was beginning to sting a little. Sherlocks buttocks which were blushing a beautiful sunset shade now began to darken, blush redder as the blood ran to the surface and the detective began to squirm just a little.

"You look beautiful Sherlock." John sighed as he continued to spank his errant detective. Sherlock moaned sensually as his hips began to meet the rhythm. His buttocks raised up to meet Johns hand, begging wanting more...

Sherlock was trying his best to keep himself under control. From the moment Johns hand had first met his flesh he had felt the desire spark and jump and yowl deep inside him. He wanted John to ravish him, to make him do everything and anything and then as John had hit him harder the detective knew... the pain was clarifying and the more John gave the more he wanted to be hurt. He wanted John to hurt him. Hurt him more than he already was. The detective felt lulled and his brain felt drugged. The heat in his arse was spreading like fire and every jolt of it was electric. It sent sparks through the detectives being, frying his brain on its way round, running down his spine to his groin and into his already needful cock. The detective was sweating, the heat from his abused arse spreading through his entire being and Sherlock could feel that a pool of pre-cum that was collecting on the soft material of Johns trousers. The good doctors hand was relentless and Sherlock had soon lost track of time. He had tried to count the strokes in his head but as the pain grew his brain couldn't fix on anything other than that place. And that was wonderful... so wonderful and the detective found his body moving, his back curving and so he was pushing his arse up to meet Johns hard hand. It was at that moment that John moaned and Sherlock lost it. He began writhing, thrusting against Johns knees, rubbing his cock against Johns already ruined trousers.

"Your filthy." John goaded above him "look at you... I think you deserve another extra for ruining my trousers. They are ruined you know."

"You... You should have taken them off then." Sherlock panted cheekily.

"Two extra!" John snapped, slapping the reddened skin harder and making Sherlock yelp. John paused and leant down to kiss and nuzzle at Sherlocks neck.

"You like this don't you?" John asked darkly "You like me spanking you, punishing you for being such a bad bad detective... You like me hurting you." he nuzzled at Sherlocks nape, taking in the scent of hisop scented hair.

"Yes... Sir..." Sherlock hissed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You want more my love?" John asked gently. Sherlock nodded. John pulled back, gently pulling at Sherlocks curls. "Come on then, up love." Letting go John let the detective slip from his lap onto his knees. Sherlock then stood on shaky legs his hands going to his arse and he rubbed at it curiously.

"Hot" he stated. John stood and grinned.

"Yep, you're hot. You are very hot." Sherlock felt his desire curl inside him like a spring. His darkened eyes darkened further and he took a step towards John.

"John..." the detective rumbled, that low baritone lower than ever. Johns eyes met his and they were on each other. John grabbing hold of Sherlocks hips all nails and force, pulling him close, wrapping hands over those sore buttocks and squeezing and clawing at them as the two mens lips met in a passionate frenzied kiss. Sherlocks hands found their way to Johns bare chest, fingers quickly finding Johns nipples. He teased and pinched at them and his sandy haired master moaned beneath the sudden assault. In retaliation he bit at Sherlocks bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth, sucking on it, bruising it making Sherlock moan into his mouth. After a few moments of this John pulled back and rested his forehead against Sherlocks own slightly damp one.

"Come on love..." John gasped, squeezing the detectives sore buttocks again and getting a grimace for his trouble "be a good boy. You have to take your extras." Sherlocks made a disappointed noise but submitted to Johns new found authority, lightly kissing John once before pulling back from him.

"How shall we do this?" John mused, half to himself. Sherlock glanced at the desk and smirked. Ducking behind John he crossed the room and grasped the edge of the table. Gracefully he leant over, his spine curving, buttocks jutting up invitingly, legs spreading.

"Sir?" He purred. John turned and choked. He blinked as he took in the ridiculously horny scene set out before him. Sherlock spread out, bent over, waiting for John to do whatever he wanted. Johns groin gave a nasty throb of as he imagined fucking Sherlock there and then, with the detective pinned hard against the wood of the desk as John slammed his cock deep inside him. Shaking himself to remove the image John palmed himself through his trousers. Sherlock groaned at the sight but didn't move he just waited.

Finally John managed to make his legs work and quickly he snatched up the wooden spoon and crossed the room.

"Oh Sherlock." he groaned, "You look...you are beautiful." reaching out John touched those reddened buttocks gently, running his hands over them and then running a finger down Sherlocks crack to circle his hole lightly. Sherlock made an indescribably filthy sound and arched his spine, tilted his buttocks and spread his legs wider in invitation. The doctor gently rimmed his hole for a few moments, Sherlock squirmed a little pushing back, trying to get John to enter him with that teasing finger but John wasn't having it. Backing off John took a firmer grip of the wooden kitchen implement in his hand. Sherlock moaned out his displeasure as his body missed Johns digit and then froze as the cold wood of the spoon suddenly touched his left buttock. John ran the spoon over and around both of Sherlocks glowing globes.

"So how many?" John asked, stepping in and leaning up against Sherlocks arse, grinding his covered erection against his lovers sore spread cheeks. Sherlock groaned and pushed back against Johns warmth.

"I... Five I think... John." John gave the detective a light swat.

"That's six." his teased. Sherlock frowned.

"John?" he questioned in a puzzled voice, his lust clouded mind not catching up. John swatted his other buttock and thrust his hips.

"Seven...' the doctor whispered. There was a pause, John could almost hear Sherlock thinking. After a moment the detective moaned.

"Ten... make it ten. Sir." John ruffled Sherlocks hair.

"Good boy." he smiled and pulled away. John stood slightly to the left side of his lover taking in the glorious sight. He rubbed the spoon over Sherlocks left cheek, judging his aim. "Brace yourself love, I'm not going to hold back." Sherlock stiffened his stance and John felt his breath hitch as those beautiful buttocks clenched and then tried to relax. John raised the spoon up, waited a beat and then let fly. Not too hard, but in no way soft. The spoon made an attractive cracking sound as it landed and the detective yelped in surprise. John sighed out his pleasure at the sound. When had he become such a sadist he wondered. Crossing quickly to the other side of his now darkly moaning detective John once again chose a spot, took careful aim and let fly. This time it was harder. Deep red patches appeared on each of those beautiful already blushing cheeks and Sherlock cried out sharply again.

"Oh God, yes John. More John. Again. Harder. Please... Sir." It was the filthy way that 'sir' rolled of Sherlocks tongue that really got John worked up. Without bothering to switch sides he let fly again, the spoon landing pretty much on the same place as it had before and Sherlock made a noise that reminded John of a scolded cat. The doctors cock gave another nasty throb and he quickly palmed himself again uncomfortably. He could see Sherlocks hands clawing the desk as he tried desperately to restrain himself from leaping up and grabbing at his scolded arse. John crossed again to the other side murmuring gently,

"Don't forget your safe word." his lover groaned out and turned his face to his doctor. Shockingly tears streaked Sherlocks face, but John was more taken aback by the sight of Sherlocks eyes. His pupils practically covered the irises and the detective looked drugged and ridiculously happy.

"Don't need it John..." Sherlock managed, his voice thick and slightly strangled "sir... it... it's fine." John shrugged and brushed a strand of damp hair away from Sherlocks face gently.

"Okay. You are beautiful like this Sherlock." the doctor cooed softly, before stepping back and rubbing the spoon over Sherlocks sore cheeks again. Taking aim he let fly the forth swat, again landing it with well aimed precision over the last mark. Sherlock made a strangled noise and jolted a little. John watched as the skin bloomed an angry red. Gently he reached out and touched than spot, murmuring gentle encouragement to his beautiful detective.

Sherlocks brain had quite literally stalled. The detective smiled to himself stupidly as John gently rubbed a little of the pain away and sighed with unadulterated bliss. He knew that having sex with John was a fairly good cure to his constantly running like a speeding train mind, but this... this actually stopped his brain altogether. All it could concentrate on now it seemed was the glorious pain, the redirection of blood to his groin and the wonder of John. John had stopped his mind and it was better than anything any drug had ever done to him. The detective moaned and whimpered and asked John to hit him again. John did so. It did not hurt as much as the previous stroke because John had chosen a new spot to work, but as wood hit flesh sparkles of pain needled their way through Sherlocks skin, into his nerve endings, sending shudders of pleasure and causing moments of blissful total oblivion. The oblivion of pain and white hot pleasure, cutting of any thoughts and sending subsonic shock-waves around the detectives system. His cock throbbed in angry response. John continued now without breaking his pattern. It sent Sherlock higher and higher and somewhere far away he wondered if it was possible that he could come just from this. The detective tried to suppress that thought, he wanted John inside him, fucking him before that happened. He wanted to come with John, he wanted John to come inside him.

Finally there was a pause, time had stopped from the detectives point of view and he lay panting and glistening with sweat on the table as John threw down the spoon on the floor with a clatter. Sherlock became aware that his hips were moving, that he was dry humping the table beneath him. He felt Johns hands gently cup his face and opened his eyes languidly.

"We're done love..." Johns voice broke into his mind "Are you okay?" Sherlock blinked, feeling the drying tears on his face that John now brushed thumbs over.

"Yes... yes Sir." the detective managed, his hands grasping the table beneath him to ground himself. He was still in sub-space. Managing to still his hips he looked into Johns eyes. A little worry glinted there and that was enough to bring Sherlock back into the real world.

"John." he managed in a broken tone "That was amazing. You are amazing. John you are... so beautiful. Sir." John smiled a little at his title and gave a little chuckle.

"Your back with me then. God Sherlock, you have a serious kink here I'm beginning to think." Sherlock chuckled along with his lover until John bent to his level and the two men shared a long and lingering kiss.

"I had one idea." John murmured "Something I think you would like. Have you had enough or do you want me to try something else on you?"

"Riding crop?' Sherlock groaned. John smirked.

"Not quite. Will you stay perfectly still for a moment. If you don't like it you know your safe word right?" Sherlock smiled and nodded before whispering,

"I am yours tonight John. I give myself over to you, do whatever you want to me. I won't use the word." Leaning forward Sherlock captured Johns lips with his own allowing Johns tongue to slip into his mouth without resistance.

"Okay love." John said quietly. "Wait right here and look straight ahead."

"Yes sir." the detective moaned compliantly.

Ooooh... what has John got planned. Who knows? Only me! See you next time. :)


End file.
